Dead Men Tell No Tales
by TheDelightfulBrit
Summary: Your favorite characters are off to search for the Kraken and rescue their beloved Jack... but the question is, just how beloved is Jack to a certain governor's daughter? Takes off from the ending of PotC2.
1. Chapter 1

**Because I was so irritated that Pirates of the Caribbean 2 ended so abruptly, I thought I'd throw in how the story should have continued. THIS HAS PotC2 SPOILERS! YE'VE BEEN WARNED, MATES!**

Elizabeth sat on her stool, slack jawed, as down the rickety stairs, apple in hand, came Captain Barbossa. Barbossa, who had tried to kill her, Will, and Jack. Barbossa, who had ransacked Port Royal, blown up a ship, and would have easily had his way with her had he been able to take any pleasure in it. The dastardly man bit into the vivid green apple and grinned at all who were present.

"Miss Swann, how nice to see ye," he said silkily, baring his rotting teeth in a devilish smile. "Master Turner, still a strapping lad. Have ye done the girlie yet, eh?"

"You vile b-" Will snarled, reaching for the sword at his waist, but Barbossa didn't waste a second glance at him. His gaze fell upon Pintel and Ragetti, who were slowly slinking to the doorway.

"Look what filth is tryin' t' escape!" he spat. "Ye mangy curs! Wot in the devil's name are ye doing here?"

"We- we was- ye see, Cap'n, after you died and all, sir, and we was taken captive, we escaped, and there was Jack, ye'll recall Jack-" Pintel stammered.

"Ye joined Jack Sparrow's crew?" Barbossa narrowed his eyes at the pair, resting his palm on the hilt of a tarnished sword. Pintel and Ragetti flinched, collapsing to the floor out of sheer fright. "Disloyal swabs."

"Barbossa, ye cannae' be exertin' yerself so much," Tia Dalma chided in a motherly fashion. She hooked his arm and led him to the table to sit, a few paces from where Elizabeth was watching this queer scene unfolding. "Yer bones be nae what de used t' be. Can yer Tia be gettin' ye some sup, eh?"

"The finest liquor ye've got, pretty," he purred, patting her hand affectionately. Tia Dalma laughed, throwing back her head to expose blue teeth, and she set forth to rummage for alcohol.

"You're supposed to be dead," Gibbs cried, coming forward to stand at Will's shoulder.

"Aye, I most certainly should," Barbossa chuckled, chewing placidly on his apple. "But thanks to my darlin' Dalma here," Tia Dalma giggled again as she set a bottle of moonshine down on the table, "I'm breathin' again."

"He be help to ye, in retrievin' ye Captain Spar-row," Tia Dalma murmured, eyeing Will's raised sword. "Put ye weapon down; Tia Dalma keep ye safe!"

"You raised the mutinous first mate of Jack to help us rescue him?" Will asked, scowling.

"I did nae bring Barbossa from da dead jus' t' help ye," Tia Dalma scoffed. "He be a most int'restin' man t' be speakin' wit', bein' cursed fo' ten years."

"Dead men tell no tales," Mr. Cotton's parrot squawked, shifting nervously on Cotton's shoulder.

"So how can he help us?" Will inquired.

"I know a thing or two about the Kraken, lad," Barbossa said, tilting the bottle of alcohol to drink deeply. "Aye, I know yer situation, don't be surprised. I know everythin', from that Commodore runnin' off with the heart of Davy Jones to Sparrow being swallowed by the Kraken... a most interesting turn of events, that. Jack willingly going to the beastie. Mayhap it be that yer dear Captain is goin' soft."

As he spoke, Barbossa's eyes drifted over to Elizabeth, a demonic smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. She ducked her head, heat rolling over her face. As it had happened, Jack had not exactly gone willingly to the Kraken. Elizabeth had caught him alone on the deck of the Black Pearl and kissed him. _Not simply kissed_, the voice in the back of her head snickered; she practically seduced him. He had caved in to her advances, surrendering to each kiss, and Elizabeth then had chained him to the mast. He showed no anger at her deception, but a calm resignation. "Pirate," he had called her, and she couldn't help but realize that she had become as wicked as he.

"Jack saved all of our lives," Will said, somewhat jerkily. Elizabeth glanced up to see the strained expression around his mouth, as if his jaw was clenching as he spoke.

"And so ye should repay him by bringin' his limp and lifeless body from the gullet of the Kraken," Barbossa grinned.

"We couldn't possibly get his body back," Gibbs said sullenly. "The Kraken lives at the bottom of the sea. And besides that, what would be left of Jack in the monster?"

"Did ye know, Mister Gibbs," Barbossa said softly, swilling his moonshine lazily, "that a corpse does not rot in the Kraken straightaway? Aye, it takes years, perhaps decades, for the flesh an' bone to fall away. In fact, a heart could continue to beat for a month before itstops altogether."

"How is that possible?" Elizabeth breathed, her own heart fluttering against her ribs. "A man needs food, water, air- how could he continue to live?"

"That man does not live, exactly, Miss Swann," the pirate explained. "You see, the Kraken feasts off the fear and suffering of mortals. It can draw out the heartbeats of a man, if only to continue his horror and agony. If a man has no fear of the Kraken, his heart will not be worth holding out. 'Tis the cowards the Kraken prefers."

"Well, then Jack has some time, eh?" Gibbs said in an attempt to lift the atmosphere's foreboding aura, but Elizabeth's stomach plummeted to the floor. She recalled the relaxed manner Jack Sparrow had accepted his fate, how he had stared at her with half-lidded eyes, and knew that he had had no fear of his death.

"And at what price do we have your services, Barbossa?" snapped Will coldly. "Let me guess... the Black Pearl?"

"Lad, I told ye I know yer entire situation!" Barbossa snarled. "Had the Pearl stayed afloat, it would sorely tempt a good soul such as m'self. But, as leverage is somewhat hard to come by at the moment, satisfy that doubtin' heart of yers with this: as I am indebted to Tia Dalma for bringin' me back. Ye shall repay her, not me. The more I do for ye, the more ye do for Tia Dalma. Do we have an accord?"

Will paused, glaring at the pirate. Elizabeth noticed his shoulders were tense, his body stiff, and his demeanor colder than it should be. For goodness sake, they were trying to bring back Jack! Why wouldn't he be eager to accept such a proposal?

_Why are _you_ so eager?_ that sneering voice inquired to Elizabeth. _You are the reason Jack Sparrow is dead, after all. You are the one that locked the irons around his wrist. You are the one who had the rest of the crew abandon Jack on the deck of the Pearl. You are the one who watched the ship sink with not so much as a flutter of guilt. Until, of course,_ now.

"Ye must all be in accord in order to get back yer Captain Jack," Barbossa warned. "Be not of fickle heart. Are ye all willin' t' sail for the soul of Jack Sparrow?"

Ragetti and Pintel bobbed their heads without a second thought, eager to please their old captain. Mr. Cotton nodded, with a shrill "A pirate's life for me!" from his feathered companion. Gibbs and the midget assented, and, after a pause, Will gave a curt nod. Barbossa finally turned to gaze at Elizabeth, something vile gleaming behind his eyes.

"And yer accord, Miss Swann, is most precious of all," he smirked.

"Why ever is that?" Elizabeth demanded, panic stirring in her.

"Because, poppet," Barbossa grinned, pointing at her with his bottle of moonshine, "ye be the one with the compass that will lead us t' the Kraken."


	2. Chapter 2

Morning was coloring the treetops of the swamp a dusky tangerine, shafts breaking through the leaves to dapple the front porch of Tia Dalma's stilt house. Elizabeth sat upon the edge of the porch, hugging one of the posts as she stared into the murky waters below. 

The rest of the evening prior had been spent with Barbossa explaining to their small crew the workings of his- and Tia Dalma's- plan. Everyone minus the voodoo woman would be leaving in the morning on an Asian junk to pursue the Kraken. They would retrieve Jack's body and bring him back here for Tia Dalma to work her black magic on. There was, of course, the problem of Davy Jones' heart and Will's promise to his father to murder Jones, but all of that could wait until they had Jack Sparrow back.

Elizabeth heard the sound of boots across the porch boards and she turned, hoping to see Will. To her disappointment, Gibbs was strolling out of the shack's front door, stretching in the morning's humidity.

"Couldn't sleep, eh, Miss Elizabeth?" he smiled, sitting down beside her. "Neither could I. Closing my eyes in the presence of that bilge rat o' a captain isn't a friendly proposition."

"I hate him so very much," Elizabeth murmured.

"So you still have that compass?" Gibbs asked. Elizabeth pulled the black box out of her belt, flipping it open to reveal a needle that refused to hold still.

"A bit confused, it is," the man chuckled, tapping it.

"Yes, I guess it is." Elizabeth didn't realize she had spoken aloud until Mr. Gibbs gazed at her with concern.

"Wot happened, back on the Pearl?" he asked softly.

"Nothing," Elizabeth lied. "I thanked Jack for coming back, and he suggested that he stay on the Pearl, to give the rest of us a chance to escape."

"That was very good of Jack," muttered Gibbs, not entirely convinced.

"Yes, it was," Elizabeth whispered, snapping the compass closed.

"Get up, ye worthless mongrels! Up! We need t' get t' the ship. Grab a barrel from the larder an' a flagon of rum! Move!" The bellows of Barbossa rent the peaceful morning, making several birds in a nearby tree take to the air from fright.

"Time to move, Miss," Gibbs sighed, heaving himself to his feet. "We've got a lot ahead of us."

Gibbs and Elizabeth aided the others in filling the long boat with supplies, ignoring the insistence of Tia Dalma that her people had already stocked the junk. Once enough food- and alcohol- had been loaded into the boat, Barbossa kissed the back of Tia Dalma's hand before promising a hasty return.

"Listen t' da Captain," Tia Dalma warned the others, smiling from Barbossa's attentions. "He know da sea and da surf bett'r dan any other. He do ye no wrong, fo' he indebted t' da Tia."

"Row, ye blackguards!" Barbossa snarled, jumping down into the bow.

Their small group rowed down the lagoon, where an Asian junk was harbored. The massive fan-like sails looked like fish fins coming out from the sleek hull. Ragetti and Pintel jumped aboard to lift the supplies in, flinching as Barbossa passed them on his way to survey the captain's quarters. Elizabeth struggled to get out of the long boat, knees buckling as the craft rocked. She felt an arm curl around her waist and lift her up to the deck. She looked up to see Will staring down at her, his face expressionless.

"Thank you," she murmured, giving him a small smile. Will merely nodded and started for the aft deck. Elizabeth began to pursue him, but was halted by Barbossa striding from his cabin.

"I ne'er had ye workin' on my Pearl, so ye'll ne'er be workin' on this ship," he said, grabbing her arm.

"I can do just as much work as any man," Elizabeth snapped, attempting to wretch herself from his grip but to no avail.

"I'll not have ye exertin' yerself, missy. And I be a firm believer in ladies wearing proper attire in the presence of gentlemen," he continued, dragging her to his quarters. "There is a gown laid out by the Tia's people. Ye'll be wearin' that for most o' th' voyage."

"You have no right to tell me what to do!" Elizabeth cried. "I am no longer your prisoner. You have no power over me."

At that, Barbossa yanked her close, breathing heavily into her ear. "Did I not say, Miss Swann, that I knew of everythin' dealin' with the death of Jack Sparrow? Aye, I know wot ye did t' him. Sacrificing him for yer own safety. Wot would the others think of that, eh?"

Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat and she stared, wide-eyed, at the triumphant captain. He grinned down at her, yellowed teeth bared. He shoved her toward the cabin door before turning away.

"Ye'll be puttin' on the gown, Miss Swann, and I advise ye t' wait in my cabin until further instruction," he ordered. Elizabeth, pulled between defiance and the growing fear of her secret getting out, grudgingly entered Barbossa's quarters without another word.

Elizabeth didn't step out of the cabin until the junk was moored for the night and Raggetti came about with orders for her to join the rest of the crew below deck. She gladly left the dank room, and hoped she wouldn't have to wear her violet gown much longer; the bodice was tight enough to rival most corsets. In the crew's hold, between the hammocks and barrels of supplies, a table had been set with stools for supper. Mr. Cotton lit the lanterns and Gibbs brought out a steaming pot of something that might have passed for stew.

"Wot the devil is in this?" Pintel frowned as he was handed a steaming bowl.

"Don't mind that. You'll be eating it or you can take the night watch hungry," Gibbs grumbled.

"It smells... delicious," Elizabeth offered, pushing the grey lumps around with her spoon.

"Lying does not become ye, Miss Swann," Barbossa said, taking Will's bowl of stew. "Eat, ye swabs. Pintel, ye've first watch. Master Turner, second. Mr. Cotton, third. Now, I'm to my cabin, and I'll not be disturbed. We sail at dawn." And with that, Barbossa turned on his heel and went above deck.

"Where are we going, exactly?" Will asked, ladling himself a fresh serving.

"Cap'n Barbossa wants us to get to open water before he plots a course," Gibbs said. "That's when the compass comes in, Miss Elizabeth. We'll probably seek a direction tomorrow."

"Is it true, that a man don't completely die within the Kraken?" Ragetti asked, his wooden eye on the verge of popping out again.

"I've ne'er heard such a tale," shrugged Gibbs. "But 'tis possible. The Kraken is a beast that can swallow a man whole. And the longer a man lives in the belly of that monster, the better. It's not often that Davy Jones uses it, so it needs a supply of fodder."

"I've seen Jones use the Kraken four times already!" Will pointed out. "Seems often enough to me."

"Aye, but that was when he was after Jack," Gibbs said. "Now that Jack is... gone, Jones has no reason to use the Kraken again. Not yet, at least."

"Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!" Mr. Cotton's parrot cried.

"Aye, Mr. Cotton! Rum is just what we need!" Gibbs nodded.

"I'll take a pint up on watch wid' me," Pintel said, grabbing up a bottle.

The pirates settled around the table, quaffing bottle after bottle of alcohol. As the drinking progressed, Elizabeth watched as Will got up and went to his hammock. She followed him, catching his arm as he turned away.

"Will," she whispered as the pirates began a bawdy drinking song. "Will, what's the matter?"

"Nothing," Will said softly, not meeting her eyes. "I'm just confu- I'm tired, that's all. I just need some sleep before my shift."

"I know it must be hard with Jack gone, but-" Elizabeth watched as Will's jaw clenched again, the same as the night before when he had spoken of Jack Sparrow. He looked back at Elizabeth and removed his arm from her grasp.

"I'm fine," he said. "I just need sleep."

"Oh." Elizabeth ducked her head to keep from seeing the morose look about Will's eyes. "I'll let you sleep then. Sweet dreams."

"Goodnight," Will murmured. Elizabeth turned before anything more could take place between the two. Will's cold manner was disturbing, and Elizabeth comforted herself that all would be well in the morning as she crawled into her own hammock for the evening.

"Alright, pretty, let's see that compass!"

The sun was still low on the horizon, but Barbossa had made sure everyone was up at first light. Presently, he was standing at the helm, beckoning Elizabeth to join him and Mr. Gibbs. The others were busy tying off the sails and bringing up the anchor. As Elizabeth climbed to the aft deck, she couldn't pull her gaze away from Will; he hadn't said two words to her this morning. Sleep clearly hadn't been the only thing he needed.

"Stop gawkin' and get out that compass!" Barbossa ordered.

"The compass only shows the heading to what the holder wants, eh?" Gibbs asked as Elizabeth fumbled with the prized tool.

"Aye," Barbossa grumbled. "Is there a problem?"

"None of us look forward to seeing the Kraken again, that's all," frowned Gibbs. "Might hamper it a bit."

"Not if Miss Swann desires t' see Jack Sparrow ag'in, 't won't," snapped Barbossa.

"Wait, I am the one giving directions?" Elizabeth started, looking up from the compass. "But- but I-"

"Ye gave th' headin' for th' Dead Man's Chest. Ye can give th' headin' to find yer precious Jack," Barbossa said. "Now, concentrate. Think of findin' Jack. Picture how bloody happy ye'll all be, wot with that drunken fool back. Come on, woman! We've not all day!"

Elizabeth tried to imagine a joyous reunion, with Will cheerful again and Jack alive, but something else was clouding that picture. Salty lips against hers, a seeking tongue, mellow brown-black eyes, a deep murmur...

"There we are! Sou'west, Mr. Gibbs. And Miss Swann, ye'll be aiding Mr. Gibbs in keeping a steady course today."

Elizabeth snapped out of her reverie to watch Barbossa leave the aft deck, then back to the compass. The arrow was sitting steadily in one direction, pointing toward their Jack. She smiled, pleased that it had worked, but her face fell as she saw Will watching her. The expression he had whenever talk turned to Captain Sparrow was etched across his face. He had watched her use the compass to find their heading, the compass that points the way to what the holder wants. Elizabeth looked away, heart skipping, as she wondered just how much Will knew about their escape


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you all for such lovely reviews! Here's a new chapter, but I'm sure it's mostly just talking and quips. Hope it's not too bad!**

The days stretched on, endless hours of turquoise sea and blue sky. The crew became used to the toils assigned by Captain Barbossa, and eventually didn't even notice the pirate's colorful threats and harsh actions. Elizabeth wasn't given any real labor; she navigated for Gibbs with the compass, and aided him somewhat with their supper. For her, the days were exceptionally long as Will had yet to speak with her since their awkward conversation on the first evening.

After a morning of standing with Gibbs on the aft deck, he let Elizabeth go about her business, promising that he would keep a straight course. Elizabeth found herself walking down to the bowsprit, nestling herself in the angle where the two railings met at a point. She let her head loll back, allowing the warmth of the sun seep down into her bones. Her eyelids grew heavy, and Elizabeth slipped into slumber.

_"Pirate," he murmured, smilingly in that drunken way of his as she fought back a shuddering sob-_

"Did I give allowance for any sort o' leisure, Miss Swann?"

Elizabeth started awake, blinking up at the silhouette of Barbossa standing over her. She staggered to her feet and glared at the pirate.

"Mr. Gibbs does not require my assistance for an entire day's navigation, Captain Barbossa," she snapped. "He gave me my leave."

"Mr. Gibbs has no such power t' do so," he snarled. "I gave ye that job, not t' keep ye busy, but to keep our headin'!"

"I am of no use at the helm!" Elizabeth cried, attracting the attention of Mr. Cotton and the midget who were coiling rope not too far away. "All I do is hold the compass; Gibbs does the coordinates."

"Ye're not there t' read coordinates, Miss," Barbossa said coldly.

"Then what use am I?" Elizabeth demanded.

Barbossa opened his mouth, but promptly snapped it shut. He narrowed his eyes at her, looking her up and down in that calculating manner he used to use on her when she was his prisoner. Elizabeth backed up against the railing, but Barbossa caught her arm, pulling her toward him.

"Shall we finish this discussion in private, Miss Swann?" he asked, tilting his head mockingly in her direction.

"We most certainly will not!" Elizabeth gaped, shaking her arm from his grip. "Captain Barbossa, I am a lady about to be wed! Such insinuations are insulting and inappropriate! You-"

"If I was t' take advantage of ye, pretty, I wouldn't ask for yer permission," Barbossa hissed, grabbing her waist and hauling her across the deck to his cabin. "However, as tempting as that might be, I must be speakin' with ye about yer place on my ship!"

"Barbossa!"

Elizabeth gasped as Will barreled in front of them, his sword half drawn. The man was absolutely livid, which was certainly a change from his recent melancholy. Will leveled the blade at the pirate, who's lip curled with disdain.

"Master Turner, this is none o' yer concern," he sneered.

"It is my concern if you are threatening Elizabeth," Will snapped. "Now unhand her or I shall-"

"You'll wot?" Barbossa inquired. "Ye'll kill th' only hope ye'll have at bringing back Jack? Now, mate, that truly is not shrewd of ye. As I shall save th' ravagin' of Miss Swann for yer weddin' night, ye have nothin' t' fret over. So move, ye swab!"

Barbossa pulled Elizabeth past Will and, yanking his cabin door open, shoved her inside. He followed suit, barring the entrance. He fixed his hat, straightening the brim just so, before turning back to the seething young woman.

"Now, firstly, may I say that ye are absolutely dense not t' realize wot role ye have by givin' th' headin'," he spat. "Don't play dumb, pretty! Ye desire t' see Sparrow again, so th' compass shows ye where he is. Thus our headin'. Ye don't need t' read coordinates, and ye don't have t' say directions; ye just have t' hold th' compass!"

"I do not desire Jack Sparrow!" Elizabeth shouted, stomping her boot-clad feet in a manner that was most humiliating to her in hind-sight. "I am marrying Will as soon as we are free of our charges, and-"

"I said ye desired Jack, not that ye wanted t' marry him," scoffed Barbossa, crossing over to the rickety table where a bottle of rum waited. "The two d' not always have t' go together, ye know. Will can give ye a stable life and would love ye forever and all that bloody bullocks they feed ye stupid women so ye'll go willin'ly t' th' chapel. But it doesn't mean ye can't want someone else."

"You are overstepping your bounds, Captain Barbossa," Elizabeth warned through clenched teeth. "I am loyal to Will and Will alone."

"Elizabeth, ye keep forgetin' that I know wot ye did!" Barbossa cackled, drinking deeply from the bottle. "Ye seduced Jack Sparrow, ye kissed him senseless, and then ye chained him t' th' mast o' his own ship. And that could have been written off as necessity, but then ye're all on deck for a rescue mission, and the compass gives ye readin's for Sparrow! Sounds like ye've got feelin's for a certain captain, eh?"

"Well... even- even if that is so, which it is not..." Elizabeth stammered, a furious blush racing across her face. "I- I can't keep giving the heading with the compass! Will knows it shows what a person wants! I watch his face and... he must suspect something! Whether you believe it or not, I care dearly for Will! I can't let him find out!"

"Find out about that little tête-à-tête on th' deck o' th' Pearl," Barbossa asked hoarsely, crossing toward Elizabeth, "or about what ye might be feelin' for Jack?"

The rum was already thick on Barbossa's breath as he leaned over her; he must have been drinking before he found her on deck. It didn't smell the same as... well, Jack. Jack always reeked of alcohol, but it was more of a compliment to the sea and sand and musty leather that perfumed his person. Elizabeth turned her face away, nose wrinkling at his stench.

"I love William Turner with all of my heart," she whispered. "If he knew his friend... that we... kissed... it would kill him."

"And wot a bloody pity that would be," Barbossa scoffed, turning on his heel from her. "At least th' lad isn't so thick as t' not begin t' suspect ye and Jack. Honestly, after Sparrow shoved him off onto the Flying Dutchman with Davy Jones, ye'd think th' lad would run th' pirate through."

"You know about Jack sending Will to Davy Jones?" Elizabeth asked, frowning.

"Oh sweet devil, how many times must I say it? I know everythin' that happened! Everythin'!"

"But how is it that you know everything?" demanded Elizabeth.

Barbossa froze, bottle half tilted to his lips. He met her eyes over the cloudy glass, and he set the bottle down somberly.

"Tia Dalma told me everythin'," he said gruffly.

"So everything you've been spouting about sailing and the compass and me and Jack and the Kraken... it's all from Tia Dalma?"

"Everythin' about th' compass and sailin' and the Kraken I knew, Miss, so ye'd best not be doubtin' my worth as a pirate," Barbossa snapped. "But how else was I t' know ye prefer the taste o' pirate t' civilian, eh? Dalma told me wot I needed t' know."

"Needed to know to do what?" It was Elizabeth's turn to cross over to Barbossa. "You told us when we left the swamp that we were to repay Tia Dalma, not you, because you owed Dalma. If this is how you're repaying Dalma, then what is to her gain? What use are you to her by helping us rescue Jack?"

"Ye should be more worried in wot Tia Dalma will be wantin' from ye instead of what she's gettin' from me," he growled, baring his teeth.

"Dalma was the one who suggested we rescue Jack," Elizabeth breathed, gazing up into the eyes of the captain.

"Aye, she was," he nodded.

"Then we'retruly not doing this at our own accord. You're here to make sure we follow through with the plan and so that we feel obligated to pay her back. And she's having us retrieve Jack so she can recieve some sort of payment from him?"

"It's about time ye started seein' things as a pirate, pretty," Barbossa grinned.

"Captain Barbossa, what is it that Tia Dalma wants from us?" Elizabeth asked hesitantly, tilting her face up to the pirate.

Barbossa scowled, brows knitting over his watery eyes. His breath was ragged, as if his renewed lungs were still not used to much exertion, and the scent of rum washed over her again. He grudgingly began to speak, grabbing her wrist in the process, when Gibbs voice rang out from the helm, making the pair freeze.

"Land ho!"


	4. Chapter 4

"Land ho!" 

"Land?" Elizabeth asked, looking toward the door of Barbossa's cabin. "But we're looking for the Kraken. The Kraken can't attack in shallow water, so why-"

"Silence doesn't agree with ye, does it, Miss Swann?" Barbossa snapped. He let her wrist fall from his grip, where it bumped against her thigh limply. She continued to stare at the doorway, dazed, until a pair of breeches and a sweat-stained shirt flung in her face brought her back to the current situation.

"Change," Barbossa ordered, pocketing extra shot and powder before reaching for his pistol.

"Now?" Elizabeth gaped, horrified. "I must protest at-"

"For once, just shut up!" the pirate snarled, pushing her aside as he strode to the door. "I am goin' t' the deck, where I cannot see ye naked. Ye will come out t' the deck, attired properly, and ye'll be prepared t' leave ship. An' keep the dress fine; I'll be wantin' t' see ye in it again."

With that, Barbossa unbarred the door and left, slamming it behind him. Elizabeth didn't waste a moment in changing out of her gown and into the foul garments, swiping a belt from the shelves to cinch in the billowing shirt. Her possible feelings for Jack and the quandary involving the price Tia Dalma would be asking for were pushed aside for her to ponder just what was going to happen next. Barbossa's agitation had increased, if slightly, at the calling for sighted shore, so he must have been expecting this happening all along.

Once Elizabeth stepped out of the captain's quarters, she was instantly pulled aside. She found herself looking up into the anxious eyes of Will, who was gripping her by her elbow.

"What did he do?" Will demanded, his grasp tightening somewhat. "Are you hurt?"

"No, Will, I'm fine," Elizabeth reassured him, her stomach fluttering as she gazed into his rich, dark eyes. _See_, she told herself, _I do love Will!_

"But you were in there for a while, and when Barbossa came out..." Will's eyes traveled down her body and ehis face contracted. "Why are you wearing his shirt... and his belt..." he frowned.

"He told me to change," Elizabeth said simply. "No no! Not with him in the room!" she added quickly as rage flashed across Will's features. "Honest, he did absolutely nothing to me. He was as courteous as he could possibly be. Trust me."

At her final words, the concern and fury melted from Will's body, only to be replace by the melancholy Elizabeth had witnessed over the past week. He let his grip on her arm slip away, and he nodded in assent.

"Trust you. Yes, of course," he murmured before walking toward the helm.

"Will!" Elizabeth pleaded, hurrying after him, but her attempt to make their situation right was put on hold by Barbossa ordering all hands on deck.

"There she be!" the captain grinned, standing with Gibbs at the helm with the meager crew gathering together. "The Isla del Monstruo. The place where th' Kraken resides."

"But the Kraken cannot maneuver in shallow waters," Gibbs pointed out, eyeing the dark lump on the horizon with some hesitation. "How can it leave near an island?"

"Firstly, do not be contracdictin' me, mate," Barbossa snarled. "Secondly, the Isla del Monstruo has no shallows. Each side drops directly t' the sea floor. Steep cliffs, full o' caves: th' perfect home for a monster. And thirdly, th' Kraken doesn't live near th' isle; it lives in it."

"Where did I put m' Bible, Pintel? I feels th' need fer spiritual savin'," Ragetti whispered at the edge of the group.

"Ye'll not need savin', ye swab, because we'll all get out alive. Plus one," Barbossa snapped. "Now, full sails t' the island. Half furl three ship lengths t'ward it. Drop anchor, and prepare for the trip. Get torches, lanterns, bottles o' rum, and scarves. Aye, ye heard me, Pintel, scarves. Cotton, Ragetti, make haste with constructin' a stretcher; we'll be needin' it on th' way out."

The cliffs of the Isla del Monstruo rose straight from the foam crested waves. The rock was a dark hue, almost black in the afternoon sun, and was pitted from centuries of churning tides. Gibbs could only get the junk five ship lengths from the island before he deemed it unsafe to continue; the waves were so violent there that any stray ship risked being torn upon the cliffs. The junk was moored, and everyone climbed into the long boat, laden with scarves, torches, lanterns, alcohol, and a poorly constructed stretcher. Pintel and Ragetti were put in charge of rowing, and Gibbs steadied the boat against the rough stone walls once they were in reach.

"How do we get up?" the midget asked, leaning back to view the sheer mass before them.

"We don't get up; we go in," Barbossa said. "Mr. Gibbs, there is a shelf in the rocks above us, aye?"

"Aye, Cap'n, I'm sure we could climb up to it," Gibbs nodded, eyeing the hole suspiciously. "But Cap'n, this seems a fool's errand. How do we know that this will take us-"

"This is th' one, Mr. Gibbs, and ye'll not contradict me again!"

A silence fell over the group as the crew fidgeted uneasily, looking over the pocked ebony stone and the heaving waves beneath them. Barbossa glared at Gibbs, who grudgingly threw the bow rope over his shoulder and stood up. Searching with his fingertips for fissures, Gibbs grabbed hold of the rock and climbed up the face. It was barely a seven foot venture up, and soon Gibbs was tying the rope off on an outcrop of the shelf.

"Who's next?" Barbossa barked, baring his yellowed teeth at the group.

One by one, everyone climbed up the rock with little difficult; the handholds were plentiful and the ascent was short, with the only hindrance being rock slick from sea spray. Elizabeth, in her climb, quavered near the top, but was quickly pulled up into the arms of Will. Their eyes locked, and Elizabeth could have sworn Will leaned in toward her, lips parted for a kiss; but shortly after Elizabeth was brought up, Will pulled back and nudged her away from the edge of the shelf.

After everyone was up, Barbossa gave orders for the torches to be lit. Mr. Cotton brought out flint, and soon everyone but Elizabeth, Barbossa, and the midget were holding aloft flames.

"Now," Barbossa began, lighting the wick of his lantern, "'tis dark and cold, so follow closely. Noise travels quickly, so keep words t' the minimum. And we're keepin' t' the Code."

"Whoever gets left behind, stays behind," Will whispered beneath his breath.

"Follow," Barbossa barked, turning toward the tunnel. "We've got a lot b'fore us."

The tunnel was damp and dark, full of echoing drips and hollow footsteps. The way was barely wide enough for two people to walk abreast, but high enough for the men to walk easily. With a shudder, Elizabeth recalled her initial visit to the Isla del Muerta, where Barbossa had originally planned her death to be among the caverns of the island. She watched the pirate lead the group down through the sloping path and wondered how much power Tia Dalma had over the man to make him serve the crew of his enemy and murderer.

An hour went by, followed by a second, and Elizabeth was beginning to feel weary of walking. The tunnel had never let up in its downward course, and she was beginning to wonder if it led to the ocean floor itself. Droplets of moisture had slid down her neck, making her shiver at the icy feeling. The quiet had almost become painful between the crew as well; the random staccato of drips hitting puddles was almost enough to snap the sanity of any of them.

"Will," Elizabeth whispered finally; her voice reverberated against the tunnel walls, causing Barbossa to narrow his eyes at her over his shoulder.

"Why is it always ye that can't follow a simple direction?" he growled, turning back to the dissipating gloom ahead of them.

"'Tis not helping the morale of the crew, Cap'n, to not be able to talk," Gibbs offered, his voice booming through the tunnel. "Perhaps if we-"

"Per'aps if I were t' cut yer tongues out and tempt th' Kraken with 'em, eh?" Barbossa snapped.

"Cotton's already got no tongue, Cap'n," Ragetti offered.

"Shut th' blazes up, I didn't ask ye!"

"Will," Elizabeth murmured as the rest of the crew quarreled around them. "Please tell me what is wrong."

"Now is not the time to discuss such matters," Will said beneath his breath.

"Will, please!"

"Not here."

"Will, I love you!"

Through the dim glow of the torches, Will's head snapped in Elizabeth's direction, his mouth somewhat agape. It took a moment for Elizabeth to realize just what she had said, and she couldn't tell if it came from desperation or that fluttering feeling in her stomach when Will looked at her.

"I love you," she whispered, looking up at him as they walked on.

Will's Adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed, and he turned his attention forward again. Elizabeth fought back a scream and clenched her fists in frustration. Then, sliding down the inside of her wrists and in between her fingers, Elizabeth felt Will take her hand and squeeze it in his own. Her breath hitched, and she savored the elation as he leaned between them to murmur, "I -"

"SILENCE!"

Everyone stilled their voices, looking toward Barbossa, who had halted a few paces down the path. He glanced back at them, placing a gnarled finger to his lips, and continued down the tunnel.

The crew stepped out from the tunnel into a massive cavern, footfalls booming across the expanse. Elizabeth marveled at the sheer size of it, at least three times the size of the Isla del Muerta. Liquid gold was racing across the floor, and it took her a moment to realize most of the chamber was water. The fire of the torches and lantern was making the surface quiver with light, casting an ochre light upon the craggy ceiling and walls.

Elizabeth pushed ahead to Barbossa and, tugging on his sleeve, mouthed, "What is this place?"

Barbossa merely scowled at Elizabeth and shook her off, facing the water with the solemnity of a hangman preparing for the gallows. The rest of the crew shifted restlessly, wringing their hands and casting nervous glances at the water. How can pirates who depend on the sea fear it so? Elizabeth thought to herself, but she quickly got an answer.

In the center of the water, where the fire's light strained to shimmer, a curling tendril rose from the surface before sinking back down. A moment later, a second something appeared a little closer to the rocky bank, and then a third. Both tendrils disappeared and the surface grew still.

"Wot was that?" Pintel whispered, hiding with Ragetti at the back of the cavern.

"Hold yer ground," Barbossa hissed.

"We're gonna die, we're gonna die, we're gonna die," Ragetti was muttering to himself.

"Be silent."

"Where did it go?" the midget asked, looking to Barbossa. The captain refused to answer, glaring stubbornly at the pool.

"It's waiting," Elizabeth said hoarsely, her hands closing unconsciously around Jack Sparrow's compass.

Not a soul stirred. The water was a sheet of glass, still and calm. The only sounds were the sputtering of pitch on the torches and the wheezing breath of Ragetti. Elizabeth closed her eyes, feeling the tension build. It crawled across her skin, inquiring if this was really worth it, if she really needed to risk everything- and everyone- to bring back Jack.

_Yes_, that voice whispered back, _yes_.

The surface of the pool shattered, torrents of water shooting up to the ceiling. A piercing howl, shrill and demonic, ripped through the quiet as a mass launched itself out of the water. Curling arms went out to the stone floor and walls, dragging a slick body the size of a ship onto the rocky shore. A mouth appeared, stained fangs that resembled spars of wood contracting in a circle around a dark hole. Screams rang out, curses were yelled, and Elizabeth fell to her knees as the monster writhed toward them.

The Kraken had arrived.


	5. Chapter 5

**Now, my wonderful readers, thank you most ardently for the reviews. AndI do apologize about all the cliffhangers, but they certainly do add suspense. As far as who Elizabeth will choose in the end, you'll just have to wait and see. Please send more reviews! Enjoy!**

The Kraken dragged it's slick body up onto the rock ledge, jaws working as the crew cowered. Below the shrill howl of the beast and the panicked exclamations of the pirates, one might hear the sound of suckers popping as the tendril arms of the leviathan spread out before it.

"Hold yer ground!" Barbossa roared.

"What is your plan?" Will shouted above the ruckus.

"Steady, lad! I have yer salvation!"

Elizabeth, from her place on the floor where she had collapsed, weak-kneed, moments before, watched as Barbossa pulled something from his frock coat and held it tightly in his fist. He raised his hand to the monster, grinning madly.

"Obey me, beast! Look upon th' treasure o' Davy Jones hi'self! Obey me!" he yelled.

"What the devil are you doing?" Gibbs demanded as the monster continued forward.

"Obey!" Barbossa bellowed. "Smite ye, obey me!"

"He's gone mad," Will said, drawing his sword. "We'll make a stand! We'll fight it back or die trying!"

"Sheathe it, lad!" Barbossa glanced at the object in his hand, swearing. "Blast Dalma! 'Tis not workin'."

"You're risking our lives on some remedy that voodoo woman gave you? She gave Jack the dirt, and it ne'er helped him!" Gibbs spat.

"Silence! I just can nae recall-"

"You don't remember how to use it?"

"We have to do something!" Elizabeth choked, staggering to her feet in case she had to make a run for it, which was getting more and more possible as they lost precious time.

Barbossa looked back at her, his fierce scowl waxing to an awestruck expression. Before Elizabeth could move away, he crossed to her in three strides, wrenching her into his grasp. He shoved her in front of the Kraken, which was screeching only paces away. Barbossa held herbefore him so she was facing the churning fangs.

"BARBOSSA! NO!"

"Wot in th' blazes-"

"Sweet mother of God-"

Elizabeth could not hear the shouting around her. She could not see Will throw himself at Barbossa, only to be held back by Gibbs and Cotton. She could not feel Barbossa's breath on the back of her neck, his fingers brushing her neck and collarbone. Elizabeth only had eyes for the gaping maw in front of her, the rank breath like a thousand rotting corpses, and the saliva that was oozing onto the rock. She closed her eyes and screamed.

When the scream finally faded from her lips, Elizabeth was assaulted by absolute quiet. I'm dead, she thought. It has swallowed me, and I'm going to slowly die in this monster.

"Elizabeth," said a voice faintly.

It's Jack, her mind told her. At least I will die here with someone to comfort me.

"Elizabeth, pretty, stay calm."

That isn't Jack...

"Don't move, pretty. Just... open your eyes, but stay bloody calm."

Lips moving next to her ear caused Elizabeth to notice the vice-like grip on her arms and the heat of another being behind her. Disappointment twinged in the back of her mind as she realized that her comforter was Barbossa. Hesitantly, Elizabeth opened her eyes, only to squeeze them shut again, her body going limp with a strangled sob.

The Kraken rested not five paces from her, it's tentacles twitching languidly around her ankles. The massive mouth had closed, fangs drawn in like a terrifying flower closing its petals. The stench of the beast was heavy around her, causing her eyes to water.

"Stand up! Keep it t'gether!" Barbossa hissed, yanking her up. "I told ye t' stay calm."

"Let me go," Elizabeth whimpered, tears streaming freely down her flushed cheeks. "Please, no. Let me go."

"Wh- wh- what just ha- happened?"

Elizabeth looked back to see Gibbs and Cotton supporting Will, who was sagging between them. The look of unparallel relief was evident in every muscle of his body, and he could not stop staring at Elizabeth's tear-stained face.

"What happened?" Gibbs inquired again, recovering somewhat.

"Tia Dalma didn't do us wrong," Barbossa boasted. "See?"

Elizabeth looked down to see a silver chain hanging around her neck, a locket resting upon her chest. The image of a cherub was etched upon it, a silver savior. Barbossa had placed it around her neck just before the Kraken came any closer.

"But, Cap'n, ye tried t' use it b'fore, an' it didn't work," Pintel pointed out; he, Ragetti, and the midget where huddled against the back wall, Ragetti clutching a rough cross to himself.

"It just needed a... woman's touch," Barbossa smirked.

"Elizabeth?" Will said weakly, struggling back to his feet.

"She's fine, lad. Pull ye'self t'gether, woman!"

"Let me go, Barbossa!" Elizabeth begged, averting her eyes from the Kraken.

"Spineless wench. Look, ye are the reason the Kraken halted. An' do ye know why?" Barbossa inquired. Elizabeth shook her head weakly. "Because, pretty, that necklace belonged t' Davy Jones' sweetheart. The Kraken thinks ye are Jones' love."

"The necklace of Davy Jones' love?" Gibbs gaped. "Devil take me, that's impossible."

"Nae so, Mr. Gibbs," frowned Barbossa. "'Tis been so long since Jones' has seen his bonny lass that he'd ne'er recognize her. He just remembers this," he ran his fingers over the silver locket, brushing Elizabeth's skin in the process. "And if Jones' can't remember th' pretty girl he once loved, his Kraken most certainly won't. Anyone- or, any woman- who wears this necklace has power over the Kraken and Jones."

"I remember seeing something similar on the Flying Dutchman," Will said, hesitating after Barbossa's explanation. "It was a music box."

"Aye, as is this."

Elizabeth, with a severe nod from the pirate, put her fingertips onto the locket, nails digging into the fissure running along the sides. The locket popped open, and a haunting melody drifted out. Will jerked somewhat at the sound, his eyes going distant. The Kraken, to everyone's shock, gave a low rumble, it's tentacles relaxing and it's entire body swaying slightly with the music.

"Oh my," Elizabeth gasped, watching the effect the quavering melody was having on the leviathan. Out of the corner of her eye, Elizabeth also took note that Will had gone back to his knees, his mouth open somewhat in an expression of awe.

"Very good," Barbossa grinned, rubbing his hands together. "All right, ye swabs, get the scarves. Mr. Gibbs, Master Turner, tie 'em tight around yer faces. Pintel, Ragetti, put more pitch in th' lantern. Miss Swann, please be wearin' th' green scarf; it looks right fine on ye."

"Why do we have to wear these?" Elizabeth asked, accepting the scarf from Mr. Cotton.

"Ye'll not believe the breath o' that beast. Inhale too much and ye'll be its next meal."

"You- you mean we're going into the Kraken?" Elizabeth squeaked, her voice pitching.

"How else would we retrieve ye're Jack Sparrow?"

Elizabeth stood stock still, mouth agape. Will, with his scarf tied over his mouth and nose already, came up behind her and pulled her scarf over her lower face. The gauze hampered her breathing slightly, and her heartbeat sped up. Will, with a sudden amount of tenderness, leaned over her shoulder and whispered, "Everything will be fine. I promise you."

Elizabeth looked over her shoulder at Will, who had a dreamy air about him. It wasn't the heartfeltadoration she had seen in his eyes before when she had told him she loved him; it was more fanciful, whimsical, flighty. She would have considered him in a daydream had he not jerked out of his stupor at Barbossa's yell of, "Hurry up!"

"How exactly are we going into this... thing?" Elizabeth asked hesitantly, her voice muffled by the scarf.

"First, ye're goin' t' talk t' it," Barbossa said gruffly, tying his own on.

"Talk to it? It's a monster! it can't comprehend anything I'm saying!"

"Easy, now, ye'll hurt th' beastie's feelin's," Barbossa replied; from the sound of his voice, he was smirking behind his mask. "Look, it thinks ye're Jones' woman, so it'll do as ye say. Jus' tell it that we'll be takin' a stroll 'bout its gizzards and it shouldn't digest us. Aye?"

"You truly are mad, you understand?" Elizabeth scowled.

"Stop jabberin' on, woman. Get on with it!"

Elizabeth looked back at the Kraken, which angled its arms at her as if in anticipation. She stepped toward it, and the monster's hum deepened, reverberating in her bones. A tentacle caressed her leg briefly, and something vile rose up her throat, sour and tasting of fear. She fought it back, lifting her chin defiantly.

"Kraken..." she began, but her voice broke before she could continue on. "Kr- Kraken, we are going to... could you please... I... we're going to be taking a stroll about your gizzards so please don't digest us, savvy?"

"Goin' salty on us, eh?" Barbossa sneered. "Ah, but it worked. Good, pretty. Gibbs, Turner, Swann, get ready. Th' rest o' ye, stay where ye are."

The Kraken, it's rumbling pitching lower, began to open it's maw, the stained fangs folding outward to create a gaping hole. A second wave of rancid air washed over the small group gathering, causing Elizabeth's stomach to turn. Barbossa raised his lantern up, casting a golden light over the glistening insides of the beast. He looked back at the three awaiting his ordersand reached out for Elizabeth's hand, rough fingers scratching her palm.

"Ladies first," he hissed, pulling her toward the shadowy abyss.


	6. Chapter 6

**I do apologize for so long a wait, and more apologies for this chapter not being too terribly long. However, the next chapter will be up soon. Oh, and thank you for all of the wonderful reviews! It's a delight to see so much positive feedback! Enjoy!**

The first step was enough to make Elizabeth shudder; the flesh was slick and smooth to the touch, bumps and veins running beneath the pale pink tissue. The muscle bowed beneath her weight, like walking on the sandy bottom of the sea shore. Elizabeth bit back a cry, her face wrinkling as she was surrounded by the noxious breath. She was in the Kraken.

Light wrapped itself around her and her surroundings as Barbossa brought the lantern, stepping to her shoulder. Gibbs and Will followed, all keeping close to one another.

"Disgusting," Will scowled, brow furrowing as he surveyed their small passage.

"Keep such comments t' yer person, Master Turner," Barbossa snapped. "We are now guests here, so be polite, eh?"

"This- this is the mouth, then?" Gibbs stammered.

"Aye. Rows o' teeth at the openin', spittle in here, and there-" Barbossa jerked his chin at the back of the mouth, where a valve was pulsing slowly, an slit down its center opening every so often, "is th' belly o' th' beast."

"This is madness," Will hissed. "We'll not come out alive."

"Lad, I already said we'd all survive, so please be haltin' yer dramatics," Barbossa sighed.

"There is scarring all along these walls," Elizabeth said quietly, tiptoeing over to the pulsing walls. Long white gashes, some with strips of dead skin still hanging from them, crisscrossed the delicate flesh of the Kraken, ranging from the walls to the roof of the mouth.

"Sparrow put up a fight then," Barbossa grumbled. "Come along, ye swabs."

Barbossa led the way across the floor of the mouth, and Elizabeth felt the sinew tighten beneath the slick flesh as she followed. The pirate moved to the valve at the back of the mouth, turning to glance at Elizabeth with a leer to his eyes.

"If ye'd be so kind," he sneered.

"Kraken," she said, raising her voice above the guttural sounds rumbling throughout the beast. "Please open- open your throat."

The four excursionists held their breath as the echo of Elizabeth's voice died away, bouncing for a final time in the pink cavern. A quivering groan rose from the heart of the Kraken, and the valve opened wide, spilling a wake of sea water over their boots. Barbossa raised his lantern before him, ducking his head and stepping high through the entrance to the stomach. Will followed after, extending his hand back through to Elizabeth, who clambered through to stand knee deep in water.

Once Gibbs had come through, the valve from the mouth closed, leaving them to the flickering glow of Barbossa's lantern. Swirling waters, a mix of brine and bile, soaked Elizabeth up to her knees. The walls of the cavity were not still, calm like the mouth, but undulated and contracted; it was as if the Kraken was about to digest them at any moment. Elizabeth took a deep breath to steady herself and almost passed out; the stench from the belly burned her eyes, throat and lungs like nothing she had ever had the displeasure of encountering.

"Come, ye swabs," Barbossa warned, and he started into the shadows beyond.

"How large is the stomach exactly?" Gibbs asked, keeping close behind Elizabeth.

"Couldn't say, as I don't of'en venture into th' belly o' a fierce, blood thirsty beast!" Barbossa snarled back at him, glancing over his shoulder with a glare. "Use yer wits, man; or wots left o' 'em..."

"How do we know this isn't a trap?" Will spat, splashing through the bile and juices to appear at Barbossa's shoulder. "You've already died once; I'm sure you wouldn't mind dieing again. It would be a fine revenge to leave the closest mates of Captain Jack Sparrow to rot with him in the bowels of the Kraken."

"If I could allow ye t' die, Master Turner, I'd have slain ye when we first met, or slit yer pretty throat while ye slept," Barbossa growled. "Why in th' blazes would I choose, of m' own free will, t' climb into this God forsaken pit just t' have ye die? Eh? So shut yer bloody gob, ye nancing spawn of a blackguard, and MOVE!"

Barbossa's final word reverberated through the beast and, as it died away, it was replaced by a disgruntled rumble from the Kraken, which escalated into a shriek. The walls of the stomach convulsed, coming in on the four as muscles clenched. The floor heaved, causing them to stagger. Elizabeth wheeled backward and her foot caught on something beneath the surface of the briny mix; with a scream, she fell back and was submerged in the vile drink.

Elizabeth's world went dark, and she thrashed in an attempt to bring herself back to the surface. While it was not deep, she had tangled in whatever had caused her fall and she could not reach the air. The water was stinging her face and eyes; her gut clenched as she briefly considered what this liquid consisted of. She opened her mouth to yell, but choked on the water, which burned the tender flesh of her mouth and throat.

As quickly as she had fallen in, a strong grasp dragged her up to the air. Elizabeth blinked up into the terrified gaze of Will and the concern of Gibbs, only to vomit quite profusely onto their shirts.

"At least she's gettin' the wicked stuff out now," she heard Barbossa grumbled. "Calm her down! She's upsettin' th' Kraken."

Elizabeth realized that she was sobbing, tears mingling with the filth on her cheeks. A layer of something slimy that had been drifting on the water's surface now was slipping through her hair; in fact, there was a developing layer of scum that was collecting all over her, clear and reeking of bile.

"Elizabeth, don't look-" Will began. Elizabeth noted that he was looking down in her lap, and she followed his gaze. The object that had caused her fall was clad in a torn shirt stained with blood, the arms picked away to little sinew and bone. The head was faceless, burned away by years and digestive juices, and a large hole was gaping in the skull where water sloshed around whatever was left of the brain. Needless to say, Elizabeth screamed.

"Shut up!" Barbossa hissed as the walls of the Kraken's stomach heaved again. "Th' beast- she's makin' it- oh bloody..."

Barbossa trailed off as he marched over to where Gibbs and Will were kneeling, shoving the prior aside. He ripped the corpse from Elizabeth and, pulling her to her feet, snapped open the locket that was hanging around her neck. The haunting melody filled the cavern, bringing the Kraken's distraught air to a calm complacency. The music of Davy Jones' lost love even soothed Elizabeth; her sobs melted away, replaced by brief hiccups. Once she had calmed, Barbossa shot her a venomous glare.

"Now, ye filthy swabs," he hissed through gritted teeth, "any sort of mischief and this beastie will kill us, eh? That means no questionin' me, and t' keep quiet! An' Miss Swann, if ye happen t' slip again, don't be makin' a fuss, eh?"

"If you hadn't been yelling, I would never have tripped," Elizabeth snapped, her face wiping away as much slime from her face as possible as it stiffened on her skin. "And what is this?"

"A preservative for the Kraken's supper. It could keep your face pretty for a good fifty years, that is if it doesn't eat yer flesh first," he sneered. "Keep that locket open, now; we don't want anythin' else to happen. Now, let's move. After ye, Miss Swann, Mister Gibbs, Mast- Turner! Quite gawkin', ye twit, and move!"

Elizabeth looked over at Will, who had gone slack jawed and dazed. His eyes were distant, head tilted to one side, as he had the last time the locket had been opened. Elizabeth glanced at Gibbs and Barbossa, neither of whom were under a similar state; she wasn't in the least bit affected either, yet Will appeared dumbstruck. She touched his arm, and he blinked, looking down at her with a frown.

"Will? Are you all right?" she asked softly.

"Wha-?" Will shook his head, trying to focus on her face. "Yes, of course, I'm perfectly... fine..."

"We need to hurry," Gibbs mumbled to the pair, grabbing Will's shoulder to push him along. "Must be the fumes going to his head."

"Yes, I suppose you must be right," Elizabeth frowned, although she was not at all convinced.

The four did not walk much further until they came upon their pirate. It was near the very back of the stomach, where the water level was rising to mid-thigh, and Barbossa's lantern illuminated a glitter of steel. Half lodged in the side of the belly, the sword was coated with scum that gleamed wetly. Hanging from the hilt, his hands locked in a death grip on the sword, was Captain Jack Sparrow. His whole body was thick with slime, weighing his body so he was slowly pulled into the acidic mix he knelt in. Open sores showed beneath the scum, slices and gashes from teeth blood red; the Kraken had already begun to slowly eat away at his skin as it had down the corpse. He was a vision of heroism: blade plunged into the beast with one last attempt at a fight, clinging to his weapon in death, a proud expression frozen on his still face.

"He's here," Gibbs whispered incredulously. "Fought his way all the way in."

"Aye, Mister Gibbs, and he's not in bad shape," Barbossa nodded. "Not like the swab Miss Swann was toyin' with earlier, eh?"

Elizabeth couldn't warrant a disapproving comment toward the man at that moment. Her thoughts were filled with her last image of Jack, chained to the mast of the Black Pearl. His half-lidded gaze, his knowing smirk, the betrayed air that hid beneath his arrogance. Yet here he was, half dead or more so, slowly being eaten alive as the Kraken fed off his fear and skin. It was all her fault.

"Gibbs, Turner, grab him," Barbossa ordered, pulling Elizabeth to his side with a hand on her waist. Elizabeth couldn't find it in herself to reprimand him for such forward actions; her thoughts were too filled with dark eyes and rum tainted lips. "Turner! Mangy cur, get out o' yer dreamin'! The two o' ye, grab Sparrow. Don't wipe away any of the scum; he needs t' be preserved until Dalma can see t' him. Hurry along, now, I can't be breathin' this filthy ambiance much longer."

Will and Gibbs pulled Jack's sword out of the flesh of the Kraken; the monster only stirred once at the discomfort, but quickly quieted to the lullaby the locket crooned to it. The two men sheathed the blade and, taking his shoulders and knees, lifted the pirate out of the water. Barbossa, Elizabeth still pinned to his side, nodded at them to walk toward the mouth, following closely with the guttering lantern.

Elizabeth moved as if in a trance. They now had Jack. They'd carry him to Tia Dalma, who would give him life again as she had done to Barbossa. He'd open his eyes, look up at her and- what? Would he loathe her? Would he desire to be with her? Or would be expose her for the turncoat she was, one who kissed a man only to abandon him to death? For Will to know she was not loyal, that she had kissed Jack... that she had enjoyed kissing Jack... she couldn't bare the hurt that would consume Will.

Something floated by, bumping her leg as she passed. Elizabeth halted, forcing Barbossa to stop too. At her feet, floating on the eddies of this vile lagoon, was Jack's hat. That blasted hat, which he could not do without. She stooped, plucking the slippery hat from the swirling filth around them, and hugged it to her chest. Barbossa did not say a word; he gave her a knowing glance and pulled her onward.

Before Elizabeth could think again, they were all standing on solid ground, the Kraken resting at the edge of the pool. Barbossa ordered her to send the Kraken back to the depths and she heard herself say, "That is all, Kraken. Thank you." The beast slipped into the water, tentacles curling lazily above the surface before the water went as still as glass.

"Cotton! Raggeti! Fetch the stretcher!" Barbossa bellowed, tearing his scarf away from his mouth. "Turner, Gibbs, set Sparrow down gently. Gently! Now, lift! Aye, that should do it. Well done, Miss Swann. We may turn ye pirate after all. Swann? Elizabeth!"

Elizabeth saw Barbossa look at her, annoyed, and she felt herself slipping away. The adrenaline in her veins was dieing away, leaving her weak. The terror of the Kraken, the smell of death, being tossed into a sea of bile, seeing Jack Sparrow, dead... it was too much. Her eyes rolled back in her head and her quivering legs gave out, leaving her limp in the grip of the pirate. Her final senses were that of Jack's hat, clutched to her bosom, and the hauntingly sweet melody from the locket, the song of stricken lovers. And, with that, Elizabeth fainted.


	7. Chapter 7

Elizabeth awoke to an endless heaven, stars shimmering like scattered treasure in the sky. Dazed, she sat up, her limbs leaden from fatigue. She had been propped up on the deck, a bundle supporting her head as she had slept. Blinking, she watched as Pintel and Raggeti hoisted the rowboat over the side of the ship, setting it on deck, before climbing down into the hold. Gibbs was at the helm, and the rest of the crew had dispersed. Looking down at where she had lain, she noticed Jack's hat had disappeared from her grasp, and her throat felt barren without the weight of the silver necklace and locket. Groggily, Elizabeth reached up to push her hair away from her face when she realized she was covered in scum. 

The day's events came back to her in a heart's beat. She had gone into the Kraken. They had rescued Jack. They had-

"Jack," she whispered to herself, eyes wide. He was back.

Elizabeth staggered to her feet and, swaying somewhat, moved toward the lower deck. She eased herself down the steps to the hold, where Ragetti, Pintel, Cotton, and the midget were allowing themselves to wallow in varying measures of drunkenness. Behind them, past the hammocks and barrels of supplies, a silhouette was moving before a dim lantern. Elizabeth's heart fluttered, hurrying across the rolling floor.

"Ja-" she began, coming up from behind the man. She came up short as he turned around, hair dripping wet. "Will."

"You're awake," Will said, offering a small smile.

"Yes, I am," Elizabeth responded dumbly, chiding herself for the disappointment welling inside her. "And you're wet."

"Cleaning up," Will responded. Elizabeth finally took note that he was, in fact, lacking a shirt and she blushed. Will turned back to the barrel he was leaning over, ringing out a rag into the water there.

"How are you feeling?" Will inquired, grabbing a clean shirt from a peg in the hull.

"Better," Elizabeth confessed, sitting down on a barrel of rum. "I was just a little... distraught."

"Oh."

An uneasy silence filled the space between them. Elizabeth stared down at her hands, listening to the inebriated yodeling coming from the pirates. How could she be let down by finding her fiancé, half dressed and dripping wet, as opposed to Jack Sparrow? _I'm unfaithful_, she thought bitterly to herself. _I'm a no good dirty pirate_.

"Elizabeth."

She looked up at the kind eyes of Will, losing herself in their brown depths. He dipped his rag into the bathing water, squeezing the excess out before bringing it to her cheek. He slowly stroked her skin, washing away the filth that covered her. He worked his way from her cheeks to her brow, nose and chin. The cool water dripped down her neck to soak into her collar, cleansing her from scum and spiteful thoughts. Elizabeth closed her eyes, sighing quietly at his ministrations.

"You said, today, in the tunnels..." Will faltered, his voice rumbling close to Elizabeth's cheek. "You said that you loved me."

"I do," Elizabeth murmured, answering before she could second guess herself. The words surprised her, but something felt right in saying them.

"You do," Will said, more to himself than to her. "And when we get back to Port Royal... when all of this is done and there are no more pirates... do you still want to... would you..."

"Would I marry you?" Elizabeth offered. She heard Will swallow before hoarsely saying, "Yes."

_Would I marry Will?_ she questioned herself. Here, now, she felt so relaxed and content. She had said she had loved him without another thought; she certainly couldn't do that concerning a certain captain. She loved Will... but she wanted Jack, or so that compass led her to believe.

She bit the inside of her cheek before murmuring, "I would."

Will's hands stopped moving, the rag resting on her jaw line. Elizabeth opened her eyes to find Will was leaning toward her, lips parted. His dark hair was hanging freely to his shoulders, droplets of water catching the golden glow of the lamp behind him. Will's free hand came up to cup her face, fingertips lighting on her cheek. Elizabeth's eyes fluttered closed on their own accord as he leaned over, brushing his lips against hers.

"Will," she murmured against his skin, raising her hands to cradle the back of his neck.

Will kissed her again, slowly easing his lips over hers. Their breath mingled, pushing any thoughts of Jack Sparrow from Elizabeth's mind. Will let the rag drop from his other hand, then rested his touch on her neck. He traced the curve of her neck, caressing her collarbone, and halted his fingers where flesh stopped and cloth began. Elizabeth felt his mouth pull away and shivered as he brushed her ear.

"Elizabeth?"

"Yes?" she said weakly.

"Where is your necklace?"

Eyes snapping open, Elizabeth pushed Will back to see his face. Frowning, she responded, "What?"

"Where is your locket?" he replied innocently.

"Are you demented?" Elizabeth demanded incredulously. "You were just kissing me!"

"Yes, I was aware of that fact," he smiled, somewhat sheepishly.

"You stopped simply for the sake of inquiring about that locket?"

"You didn't have it on, so I was merely wondering if you had, perhaps, lost it or..." Will trailed off as Elizabeth's face hardened.

"What is the matter with you?" she inquired.

"I was just concerned that you may have left it somewhere-"

"No, Will. What is the matter with _you_?" Elizabeth said sternly. "Whenever the locket played that curious music, you would become strange."

"Elizabeth, you must not be feeling well," Will offered.

"No, I am perfectly fine! It is you who is unwell! You become confused and dazed, like you're daydreaming... and now you stop kissing me to ask about some silly locket?"

"I was concerned," Will frowned, brow knitting.

"You recognized that locket from the moment Barbossa put it on me," said Elizabeth, reaching out to grab a hold of his sleeve. "You became all weak and vague, and you wouldn't snap out of it until the song it played stopped. And in the Kraken, you wouldn't come out of it then! You could barely carry Jack out-"

"And it's back to Jack," Will snarled, turning away from her and running a hand through his wet hair.

"What," Elizabeth demanded, a fierce scowl eclipsing what elation she had only moments ago, "did you just say?"

"Nothing that you should concern yourself about, Miss Swann," he spat, looking back at her with an air of contempt. "After all, the words of a blacksmith are of no interest to a governor's daughter. In fact, I imagine that if I had never had that blasted gold medallion you stole from me, and had you never considered me a possible pirate, you wouldn't even waste a second thought concerning that poor bloke, William Turner!"

Elizabeth's jaw went slack in astonishment. Her eyes welled at such harsh words, and Will's own softened.

"Oh God, Elizabeth, I didn't mean-" he began.

"There's no need for apologies," Elizabeth said briskly, blinking furiously at the tears threatening to spill over. "You were quite adamant in your speech. I won't waste another moment of your time, Mister Turner. Good day."

Elizabeth got to her feet and stormed away from Will, passing the four pirates who had been watching the entire scene unfold from over the rims of their tankards. Taking the steps two at a time, she blocked out the desperate cry of, "Elizabeth!", and let her tears loose in the chill night air.

After a rap to the wood, the door swung open on Barbossa, a halo of lamp light around his unholy self. He gave Elizabeth a glare, but jerked his head as an invitation. Elizabeth slipped in, and the pirate slammed the door shut.

"I'm filthy," Elizabeth scowled, unconsciously rubbing her palms on her breeches.

"I can be rather indecent m'self, Miss Swann, but it usually comes after a bottle o' rum," Barbossa leered, crossing languidly to her.

"I need to wash," snapped Elizabeth, glaring.

"And ye would like some assistance?"

"Stop that at once! May I use your water, Captain Barbossa?"

Barbossa had had enough of toying with her and nodded toward a corner of the captain's quarters. Elizabeth went to a table holding a wash basin and pitcher of water, picking up a cloth and a bar of soap. She was about to ask Barbossa to leave the room when a screen appeared behind her, blocking her from view.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said around the screen.

"Ye can thank me by puttin' on this." A gown of plum was thrown over the screen at her, followed by a set of kid-skin slippers.

"Thank you," muttered Elizabeth, pulling off her shirt.

"Now, as ye're not bathin' below deck, I take it there be a problem." The sound of glasses tinkled from beyond her corner, followed by the pop of a cork.

"That is none of your business!" Elizabeth spat, stripping out of the rest of her clothes. She began to scrub with a vengeance, ridding herself of the foul reminder of the Kraken.

"Turner finally found out ye've a taste for sea dogs, has he?"

"No, and you will cease all questions, Captain Barbossa."

"Fair enough," and he fell silent.

Elizabeth finished her cleansing and plucked the gown from around her feet. The color was reminiscent of the dress Barbossa had forced her to wear when they had first met, when he thought her name was Turner. With the image of Will in her mind, she tied her bodice up quickly and shoved the screen aside, glaring at Barbossa as he sat at the table.

"Tell me about the locket," she demanded, striding, barefoot, up to the pirate.

"I thought ye said nae more questions," Barbossa pointed out.

"No more questions for you. I, on the other hand, am welcome to indulge in seeking enlightenment." Elizabeth sat down across from him, shooting him a threatening glare. He grinned at her audacity and poured her a tankard of rum, leaving himself the bottle.

"I'd love t' give ye wot ye want, pretty," he said, "but I am forbidden t' speak any more than I already have."

"Will is mad because of that necklace. He was perfectly normal one moment, then out of no where, he inquires about that bloody locket. He says there is nothing wrong with him, but- you saw him! He was confused and dazed-"

"Turner's always like that, Miss Swann," Barbossa smirked.

"He's a different person because of that locket, and I need to know why!" Elizabeth cried desperately.

"And I cannot tell you upon pain of death. Or, a fate worse than death." Barbossa shrugged, swirling the liquid in his bottle lazily. "Drink up, pretty. Life is a lot simpler when ye've threw back a flagon o' two."

Elizabeth sat across from the pirate, seething as he tipped his bottle back, drinking deeply the contents. She lifted her tankard, sipping the burning concoction, but it reminded her too much of swallowing a mouthful of the Kraken's bile. She shoved her cup away and looked back at Barbossa.

"What happened to the locket? I wasn't wearing it when I awoke."

"Took it from ye before ye came to," he muttered, pulling her drink to him.

"And Jack's hat?"

"With Jack."

"And..."

"Behind ye, pretty."

Elizabeth stood up, turning to the face the other side of the cabin, where holds and the bunk were situated in the wall. A curtain was pulled across the bed, but a tanned hand, slick with something foul, dangled off the edge. Elizabeth looked back at Barbossa, who had not lifted his gaze from her as he stroked his beard.

"Why have you been kind to me?" she asked softly.

"Kind? Miss Swann, I've blackmailed ye, threatened ye, and would enjoy ravishin' ye if I ever got th' chance. I am not kind," Barbossa snorted, bringing his bottle back to his lips.

"You've comforted me. You've kept my confidence. You even respect me," Elizabeth said.

"Not quite. I took a peek around th' screen when ye were bathin'," the pirate grinned.

Coloring, Elizabeth pressed on. "Well... on the whole, you have been a gentleman, Captain Barbossa. Why is that?"

Barbossa narrowed his eyes at her, setting his bottle of rum down and began stroking his beard again. He sat in contemplation for a long moment, making Elizabeth fidget where she stood, before saying, "Do ye recall, Miss Swann, that I told ye Tia Dalma would require some sort o' payment for her services?"

"Yes, of course," Elizabeth nodded.

"Well, the reason I'm aidin' ye so much is because... I hate Dalma. I loathe that bloody wench with all my black heart. When she brought me back from the grave, 'twas not out o' kindness, but greed. She tied my soul t' her ring finger like a weddin' band, and was plannin' on makin' me her privateer so that I could raid ships and she could get more wealth. She had me as her puppet for a good month. Then she heard that Jack was gone. Dalma knew Sparrow's crew and that nancin' Turner would return t' rescue him, so she told me that if I guided the lot of ye on yer quest, keepin' all of ye from harm, she'd let me go free.

"Now, as ye all were sailin' up the bayou t' her shack, Dalma told me everythin' that had happened, includin' wot will happen. I knew wot she has planned for Jack and Turner, but then she saw ye." Barbossa paused, watching Elizabeth's eyes with watery own. "B'fore dawn th' day we sailed out, she confided wot plan she had for ye. Ye're young, pretty, quick... and she wanted t' send ye on a path that wouldn't let ye live very long. While I wasn't exactly pleased t' be with ye, Miss Swann, th' idea of ye goin' t' that... I pitied ye."

Elizabeth swallowed as Barbossa finally broke eye contact with her. This wicked pirate, the one that had attempted to murder her- several times- pitied her. He was almost fond of her, it seemed. Perhaps death had changed him... or he was feeling attracted to the only female that hadn't imprisoned his soul. Either way, Elizabeth knew he was doing his best to prepare her for what was to come, and such a show of compassion was remarkable.

She walked back to the table, seating herself once more across from the pirate, and reached across the wood to grip Barbossa's right hand in both of her's. His skin was weathered and dry, calloused on the pads of his fingers and on his palm. As Barbossa watched suspiciously, Elizabeth leaned forward and pressed her lips to his knuckles.

"Thank you," she whispered, setting his hand back down on the table.

Barbossa's mouth twitched, a bewildered expression flickering through his eyes, and he gruffly responded, "Ye're welcome."

The pair of them sat in silence for the rest of the evening, drinking deeply or simply reflecting on all the events that had taken place. Elizabeth couldn't return to the lower decks because she was not willing to face Will quite yet; Barbossa couldn't sleep because his bed was being occupied by the body of Jack Sparrow, and he sensed a dark dread that was hovering in their presence- probably the doing of Tia Dalma. Elizabeth and Barbossa would never be entirely friendly to one another; they might even hate the other. However, they were united through some master scheme, and they couldn't help but feel drawn to another pawn in Dalma's hand. They wiled away the night hours, content to simply float along with the current they found themselves in.


	8. Chapter 8

**A lovely long chapter for you, where hints are dropped, things are revealed, things are made muddled, and rum is mentioned. Enjoy!**

Tia Dalma stood on the porch of her house on stilts, hands settled on her hips as the crew brought the rowboat down the inlet. She threw back her head and gave a jovial laugh as Gibbs tied the boat off at her rickety dock.

"Ye survive da Kraken den, eh?" she chortled as Elizabeth and Cotton clambered out onto the steps, only to be pushed aside as Barbossa strode forward, sweeping his hat off regally.

"Aye, me pretty Dalma, I've brought ye back a crew, all livin' an' breathin'," he smiled, taking her dark hand and bringing it to his lips. Elizabeth frowned as Tia Dalma giggled girlishly, trying to see any of the hatred Barbossa had expressed a week ago in his cabins but to no avail.

"All of da crew?" Dalma asked coyly in her thick speech.

"All but Sparrow, of course." Barbossa motioned for Ragetti and Pintel to grab the stretcher and enter the shack. The stretcher was covered in a folded sailcloth, which beneath it lay the body of a pirate. Jack's hat rested atop the cloth, like a weathered gravestone.

"Barbossa, ye're clever!" Tia Dalma cried, rubbing her hands together as the corpse was brought in. "Put Spar-row on da back bed. Dat be where Dalma works. Now, come! Drink! Eat!"

Dalma bid everyone enter, but Barbossa grabbed Elizabeth's arm before she could move. Tia Dalma followed Ragetti and Pintel in, laughing delightedly as she pulled bottles and tins off her shelves. Mr. Cotton, Gibbs, and the midget, Marty, filed in, too, but Will lingered before the doorway. He turned to Elizabeth, opening his mouth to speak, but Barbossa cut him off.

"I'll be havin' a word with Miss Swann," he growled, dragging Will's attention to him. "Don't fret o'er yer girlie, mate. I'll give 'er back in one piece. For th' most part, eh?"

Barbossa grinned into the blacksmith's face, knowing Will wouldn't be able to stand up to him. Will looked desperately to Elizabeth, but she refused to meet his eyes, instead studying the cracks between the porch boards. She didn't look up until Will's boots receded into the hut, and when she did she caught the gaze of the pirate.

"Wot I told ye, b'fore," Barbossa said, keeping his words low, "ye ne'er heard. Act like ye know nothin'. Dalma's a sharp one. Eh?"

"Fine," Elizabeth murmured, rubbing her hands together nervously.

"And Miss Swann..." Barbossa leaned close to Elizabeth's ear, his ragged breath prickling her skin. "Forgive him."

Elizabeth started, stunned by the pirate's words, but Barbossa was already walking into the house. She knew who he meant; she had been avoiding Will the entire journey back, never mind his desperate attempts to apologize. Elizabeth shook off the air of apprehension Barbossa had left and walked into Tia Dalma's shack.

"Somethin' strong, Dalma, me sweet!" Barbossa bellowed, seating himself at her rickety table, the same place he had taken when Elizabeth had first looked upon the resurrected pirate.

"Cup fo' ye," Dalma smiled, handing the crew mismatched tankards, goblets, and wooden bowls of rum, "and ye, and ye.

"And fo' ye," the voodoo woman purred when she came up to Will, who was leaning against a wall studded with dried gourds. She put a tankard into his hands, all the while running the fingers of her right hand down his arm. Elizabeth felt something in her flare white hot, but she disregarded it as indigestion from Gibbs' cooking. "Dis fo' ye," Dalma smirked, looking the blacksmith over before turning away, leaving Will bemused and Elizabeth inwardly seething.

After most everyone had drank deeply and Tia Dalma had topped off their glasses, Gibbs ventured out with, "When will you be fixing Jack?"

"Why do ye ask, eh?" Dalma inquired, a hint of mistrust underlying her hospitality.

"I was just... we need to go after Commodore Norrington, is all," Gibbs muttered.

The mention of Norrington jarred the crew, turning reality into sharp relief. From what they could piece together, ex-Commodore Norrington had somehow taken the beating heart of Davy Jones and disappeared. Elizabeth wasn't sure if Norrington had escaped the island at all, with Jones' monstrosities after him, but-

"Norring-ton lives," Tia Dalma said, directing a look at Elizabeth that made her soul freeze. "He give da heart o' Jones t' da man named Beck-at."

"Beckett?" Everyone snapped around to see Will slam his tankard down, hatred consuming his calm visage. "Beckett, of the East Indian Trading Company? That bas-"

"We need to get it back!" Elizabeth cried. "Beckett will use the power of the Dead Man's Chest to terminate every pirate in the Caribbean! In the world!"

"Tha's not good," Pintel frowned.

"Whoever gets the heart controls Jones," Elizabeth went on, seeing the anxiety wax across nearly everyone in the room.

"More like anyone who gets the heart can kill Jones," Will snapped. Elizabeth watched as Will covered his mouth with his hand, stroking his chin and becoming more agitated with the subject. "We need to get it back," he said finally. "Now."

"Not wit'out Spar-row," Dalma ordered. "Now, ye all git out o' me house. I got work b'fo'e me wit' ye Captain. 'Der a house down da way. Ye all will live der till I say come back."

"Now that ye have Jack Sparrow and his bloody crew," Barbossa said, amiably taking Dalma's hand in his, "this is where I must say g'bye t' ye, my dear Dalma."

"An' why be dat?" frowned Tia Dalma.

"Well..." Barbossa faltered, "my part o' th' deal is done. I am no longer in debt t' ye."

"Oh, no, Barbossa, yer not done 'til Dalma say ye free," Tia Dalma smiled, patting his hand comfortingly. "Yer too good t' let go."

Barbossa's jaw clenched and his grip upon Tia Dalma's hand grew tighter. "But," he said through gritted teeth, "we had a deal."

"Aye, dat ye git back Spar-row and help Tia Dalma," the voodoo woman answered. "I still need yer help, Barbossa. Now, out wit' ye!"

Elizabeth, for the first time in the presence of Barbossa and Dalma, saw the tension build between the two. Barbossa looked like he could easily kill the woman, but Tia Dalma wore her dominance like a string of pearls. Barbossa let her hand drop and, rising to his feet, pulled his hat on and set it to a jaunty angle. He jerked his head to the door and, out of old habit, Ragetti and Pintel ran out to ready the rowboat. Barbossa folded into a stiff bow to Tia Dalma before turning on his heel and practically storming out of the shack.

The rest of them began to follow Barbossa's lead, but Dalma caught Elizabeth's elbow in her dark tattooed fingers. "Miz 'Lizabet'," she smiled, barring blacked teeth to the Englishwoman, "ye be helpin' Tia Dalma now. Helpin' Jack Spar-row."

Elizabeth's throat tightened at being addressed by Tia Dalma, but she nodded her head mutely. Dalma, patting Elizabeth's arm comfortingly, went to the doorway to call out that "Miz 'Lizabet'" would be aiding her for a short time. When she turned back, the older woman's cheerful disposition evaporated somewhat to leave someone who did not appear to take nonsense from anyone.

"Der be water o'er da hearth. Start da fire, boil da water. Ye can do dat, eh?" she asked, hands on her hips.

"Ye- yes, of course," stammered Elizabeth, backing away from the other woman.

"Good," Dalma smiled. "Start!"

As Tia Dalma went into the back room where the body of Jack lay, Elizabeth went to the fireplace. Pushing aside earthenware jugs and glass bottles filled with seeds and peppers, Elizabeth stooped at the hearth, knocking her head on any low hanging gourds or drying herbs. She began to stack kindling beneath the hanging pot, and after several minutes with flint, tinder, and quiet swears, a small fire was crackling.

Sitting down beside the hearth, Elizabeth took in the cluttered room. Herbs, thistle, and dried gourds dangled from the rafters, and a thick ochre snake was twined amid the branches of a tree that had grown into the walls. Bottles of strange elixirs covered an entire wall, and the rest of the nooks and niches were taken up by samples of spices, powders, specimens, teeth, bones, wood, gold, and miscellaneous trinkets from varying origins. It gave off a feeling of a dream, with dim lanterns filling the room with golden light and a heady scent of incense. From the back room, Tia Dalma was singing a haunting melody. _That sounds familiar_, Elizabeth thought to herself._ Maybe a childhood song, something about pirates. Or a lullaby..._

In the comforting warmth from the fire and the bewitching music, Elizabeth found herself drifting off to sleep against the driftwood mantle. She was awoken by the toe of a boot in her side and a lump of something white being dropped in her lap. Elizabeth groggily took up the offending object, looking up at Dalma, who had a bundle tucked under each arm.

"What is this?" Elizabeth asked, frowning somewhat.

"Soap." Tia Dalma tossed her bundles atop of Elizabeth, who yelped and clawed them out of her face. The cloth reeked of decay, sweat, and some sort of alcohol...

"And these?" she scowled up at the voodoo woman.

"Jack's clothes."

"Ja- Jack's clothes?" Elizabeth blanched. "So- so you mean he's-"

"Naked? Aye. Want t' look?"

"Goodness no!"

Tia Dalma threw back her head in a laugh as Elizabeth's cheeks colored. The nerve of that woman! To suggest such an action! However... Elizabeth shook her head of any such improper thoughts. She'd seen Will without a shirt, and she'd been embarrassed even though he was her fiancé. Seeing Jack would be absolutely mortifying.

"Wash da clothes an' hang dem t' dry," Dalma ordered, smirking as she began to walk back to her patient. "Den ye can go."

"That's all? You're having me do the laundry?" Elizabeth asked, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice.

"Unless ye can raise da dead, I don' be needin' ye're fo' more," Tia Dalma smirked, turning away.

Elizabeth , having never done many menial tasks, spent the next hour attempting to scrub the clothes of the pirate. To her surprise, it was hard work; her back soon stiffened from having to bend over the pot and the heat of the fire scalded her skin. The shirt, the breeches, frock coat, ragged white and red belt: all were soaked and washed and scrubbed until they were cleaner than Jack had ever appeared. There were some holes from the acidity of the pirate's tomb, but Elizabeth took to mind that, if someone would show her how, she could patch them up. With a wry smile, Elizabeth imagined having to do this as a married woman, darning Will's socks or some other task she'd heard the servants gripe about.

As Elizabeth finally gathered up the sopping wet- but clean- garments, she took notice that Tia Dalma had taken up her song again, lilting nonsense words and strings of poetry. Elizabeth considered telling Dalma that she was done, but she imagined the woman wouldn't appreciate being interrupted in her necromancy. That, and Elizabeth truly was not up for seeing Jack Sparrow in the nude.

Walking out onto the porch, Elizabeth began to drape the clothes over a piece of twine running its length when, out of the corner of her eye, something got to its feet and she dropped the garments with a cry. Will, looking guilty at startling her, went down on his knees to gather the damp clothes into his arms. He glanced up at her meekly, but averted his eyes as he rose.

"Barbossa said to wait for you, and take you back to the cabin when you were finished," he said softly.

"Oh."

They stood there, Will's arms full of wet clothes and Elizabeth fixed on studying the pair of boots she had pilfered from the Asian junk. The day was waning, giving the bayou an ethereal blue afterglow as the sun set. A breeze was toying with the willow branches and ginkgos, pulling at the hem of Elizabeth's gown. Will eventually opened his mouth to speak, but Elizabeth cut him off.

"I'm sorry," she blurted. "I didn't mean to be rude, I was just concerned. I-"

"No, please, Elizabeth." Will grabbed her hands, dropping the clothes back to the floor in the process. "I was cruel to you. I don't believe those things I said-"

"Will," Elizabeth sighed, bringing him to a halt. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, hesitant to what could happen next. Elizabeth leaned over and set a simple kiss to his lips, leaving him stunned. She gave him a coy smile, and Will broke into a grin that lit up his entire face. He tilted forward, Elizabeth mimicking his motion, when a shadow moved in the doorway of the shack. Elizabeth jumped back, causing Will to turn toward the disturbance.

"Done yet?" Tia Dalma asked tartly, mouth twisted in an expression of displeasure. For a moment, Elizabeth questioned if she was even inquiring about the laundry.

"I was just hanging it up," Elizabeth nodded.

"Mmm..." Dalma glared at the floorboards, and, realizing Will had dropped the clothes, Elizabeth quickly stooped to pluck up the garments.

"Finish now. Be gone b'fore da night. Don' come back fo' t'ree days. Tia Dalma needs da silence." Before she turned back into the house, Dalma's eyes raked over Will, going from head to toes and lingering on some places in between. The corner of her mouth quirked, and she disappeared with a swing of her hips.

Elizabeth, with Will's assistance, finished hanging the clothing in a matter of minutes. Will then helped her into the small flat-bottomed boat which he poled down the inlet, coming to harbor before a second stilt shack, smaller and in greater disrepair than Tia Dalma's home. Elizabeth and Will entered to find a single room with cots and pallets on one side and a table and chairs at the opposite. The pirates were partaking of their supper, and Will joined them with a vengeance.

"And Dalma let ye off with ne'er a scratch?" Elizabeth turned to see Barbossa seated beside the door, nursing a flagon of rum to his wounded ego.

"Just the washing," Elizabeth said, going to the stewpot to ladle herself a bowl.

"She'll ask for more. Mark my word." Elizabeth glanced back, but Barbossa's gaze no longer focused on her, but on an invisible horizon. Bringing his bottle to his lips, he muttered, "Ne'er one comes away from th' vixen wi'out a scratch."

The next days were lazy for the crew. There was no ship to venture after, no compass to watch, no person to rescue. The sultry air of the bayou was fogging the senses, leaving men to their leisure. Pintel and Ragetti often took one of the boats out, usually accompanied by Cotton and Marty. Their alibi was fishing, but as none of the pirates had ever cast a line, they were most likely off hunting for any native woman who would tolerate their company. Gibbs and Will would spend hours discussing tactics, muttering about how they would go about slaying Davy Jones and extracting revenge on Norrington. Barbossa turned out to be the laziest of the pirates; he'd sit in a chair, drinking entire barrels of rum, mulling over his depressing state of mortality.

Elizabeth, while she did enjoy a moment of relaxation, was a flurry of motion. She took to cooking the meals, a supply of rice, red beans, plantains, and sweet island fruit well stocked in the cabin. She was able to pry a few garments from the men, keeping them as clothed as possible, and did some washing. She swept and cleaned and acted like the perfect housewife.

While Will may have been impressed by this show of homemaking, Elizabeth's actions were driven by anxiety. Very soon, Jack would awaken and he would look upon Elizabeth, recalling her actions. He would slap her, curse her, spit at her. He would hold her, kiss her, forgive her. He could do any of those things, but would ultimately reveal that she had kissed him, she had been the traitor. And then Will would know. Elizabeth knew she would be marrying Will- she_ wanted_ to marry Will, she reminded herself- and he would most likely forgive her, but she couldn't stand for that single moment to come. When both Jack and Will are betrayed by the same woman they both tried to save.

On the second evening, Elizabeth was seated on the porch of their cabin, kneading her hands nervously. One more day, and then they would return to Dalma's, and return to Jack. Fear clutched at Elizabeth's heart, and she prayed for some relief. To her surprise, a respite came to her on the wind, whispering softly in her ear. It was the song Tia Dalma had sung as she worked, something foreign yet familiar. Elizabeth closed her eyes and let the music wash over her, numbing her to her core.

Elizabeth lost track of time as she sat there in the bayou, enchanted by the harmony floating around her. She was eventually pulled out of her reverie- or at least become somewhat aware of her surroundings- by a pair of arms encircling her from behind and a solid body to her back. She didn't bother to open her eyes as Will kissed her neck and shoulder, too lost in the music to move.

"You're amorous tonight," she eventually murmured, smiling wryly at his attentions.

"What is that?" Will whispered in her ear before continuing his motions.

"Well, that's called my neck. Really, I'd think you would eventually start recognizing parts of my anatomy since you stare at it so much," Elizabeth giggled, leaning back against the blacksmith.

"No... no no no," Will sighed, nuzzling her skin gently with the rough stubble of his chin. "I meant the song. What is it?"

"I don't know," shrugged Elizabeth. "Sounds familiar, though."

"Ever so much, it does."

"Will," Elizabeth murmured after a quiet moment of basking in the song, "where do you suppose the music is coming from?"

Will chuckled, planting a kiss on her cheek in a carefree way that was almost uncharacteristic. Elizabeth opened her eyes a crack, watching fireflies on the water as they danced for her.

"No, truly, Will. Where is it coming from? I heard Tia Dalma singing something like it at her home. Could it be coming from there? Or perhaps it's a song of the natives. That might be possible."

"Hush," Will whispered. "I can't hear it when you speak."

"Don't be daft. Of course you can still hear it when I speak," Elizabeth scoffed.

"No, I can't," Will said against her skin, lips kissing her lightly, "because you stop singing when you talk."

Elizabeth was pulled from her dreamlike state at that, focusing on the source of the music. It had not come on the wind, as she had thought, but from her throat. As she placed a hand to her neck, she could feel the hum of song. Her lips were forming meaningless words between the hums, and her mouth, when not talking, was gladly giving voice to the music. It was, in fact, the music she had heard Tia Dalma croon, and now she was singing it herself unconsciously.

Elizabeth glanced back at Will, and he met her eyes with a love struck gaze. His eyes were glazed over, and a bemused expression was slapped across his visage. Just like when the locket was playing, she thought to herself. With that, Elizabeth leapt to her feet, shoving Will flat on his back in the process.

"That's it!" she cried, looking down at him. "It _is_ the locket! You're bewitched!"

"Wha- Elizabeth, what's the matter?" Will frowned, his dreamy air dissipated.

"That song! That's what played in the locket. It's bewitched you," Elizabeth said.

"What song?" asked Will, his brow furrowed.

"The bloody song I was just singing that I didn't know I was singing!" Elizabeth screamed, stomping about like a frustrated toddler.

"You can sing?"

"You dolt! I'm trying to- you-" Elizabeth clutched her face in aggravation and let out a shriek. Gibbs and Cotton ran out of the cabin to see what was the matter, Barbossa following lazily with a slight sway to his step from rum.

"What in the Devil's name is going on?" Gibbs demanded, helping Will to his feet.

"Will is bewitched!" Elizabeth shouted, pointing at her fiancé. "Every time he hears the music from that blasted locket, he loses it!"

"What does he do?" Gibbs frowned.

"He kisses me!"

Gibbs stared at Elizabeth, before looking at the confused Will. The blacksmith shrugged his shoulders, and Gibbs only became more bemused.

"Miss Elizabeth, you're tired," Gibbs said cautiously, extending a hand to take her elbow. "Come inside and get some sleep, eh?"

"No!" cried Elizabeth, becoming more distraught as the conversation went on. "Something is wrong! Will isn't himself. When he hears that music, or sees that locket, or is reminded of either, he doesn't act as he usually does. He stops caring about me, and he's single minded, and- and... he isn't my Will!"

Gibbs and Cotton exchanged a look between them, concerned with my outburst. Will looked hurt that Elizabeth was so upset, but he held himself back from going to her at that moment. The only one who moved was Barbossa, and that was to lift his bottle to his lips lazily.

"I am not mad," Elizabeth said, her throat tight from threatening tears. "This- this-"

"This is Tia Dalma's doin'." Elizabeth looked over at Barbossa, who held her gaze with a solemnity that could rival that of a sober man. "She always gets wot she wants. And we think we are in control o' this situation. Bah! None o' ye'd think t' rescue Jack Sparrow unless she suggested it. She's usin' ye, usin' me, and she'll be usin' Jack."

"What has gotten into everyone?" Gibbs demanded.

"Fine. Don't believe me? I'll fix this myself, then!" Elizabeth spat. She pushed past Gibbs, ignoring the pleading look of Will, and shot a glare at Barbossa. She slipped down the ladder from the porch to the jetty, untying the rowboat and jumping in. She took up the oars and, striking out with them, propelled the boat forward.

"Elizabeth! Wait!"

"Oh, now he cares," Elizabeth muttered spitefully as Will jumped down to the small dock.

"Boy, there's gators!" Gibbs warned.

"Elizabeth!"

Elizabeth looked at the desperation on Will's face, the genuine worry, and some part of her melted. Nevertheless, something was terribly wrong, and it would only get worse. Elizabeth watched the cabin slip away into darkness, and she was left with only the water, the crickets, and the foreboding night.

Tia Dalma's shack appeared just as mystifyingly beautiful as it was when Elizabeth had been rowed here for the first time, hunched over with grief from her betrayal. Instead of natives in the water, small paper ships were floating on the waves, carrying candles on their decks. The windows of the shack were filled with light, incredibly beautiful golden light. Elizabeth imagined she might enjoy living in such a place, but she was ripped from such fantasies as the bow of the rowboat nudged the dock. After tying it off, Elizabeth hurried up the steps, across the porch, and through the door.

"Dal- ma..." Elizabeth's voice trailed off as she found the front room devoid of living creature, with the exception of the snake, of course. Gathering her courage again, Elizabeth moved toward the back room, with the intention of climbing up the stairs to the slim attic. She charged up the two steps to the back room, moved to the stairs, and froze.

The back room was alight with a thousand candles; they burned on the floor, the tables, the windowsill, the headboard. Twisted crosses of willow switches hung above the bed, along with crystals that caught the light and sparkled like burning stars. The air smelled of cinnamon and musk, just warm enough to strike away any chill to the evening. At the foot of the bed, bowls of pastes and potions sat, varying from scarlet to plum to burnt ochre. One bottle even held something that appeared to be blood. In the center of it all, though, laying prone on the bed, was Captain Jack Sparrow.

He was clean, for a change. His clothes- he was clothed, Elizabeth noted in the back of her mind- were clean and crisp, fitting him better than they ever had. His skin shone without salt and dirt, the festering sore beneath his chin healed somewhat. His hat and sword were set to his side, waiting for him to rise from slumber and hurry off on some adventure. He looked... alive.

While Elizabeth had spent a great amount of time in the captain's cabin on the return journey from the Kraken, she had never looked upon Jack's body. She had seen what remained of him in the belly of the beast, a stiff corpse frozen in a final act of desperation, the bile of the monster eating him ever so slowly. That was not how she wanted to see him.

"Jack?" she whispered, stepping toward the bed. She waited for a response, but none came. She took another step closer, and then another. She picked her way through the burning candles, ducking her head beneath the hanging baubles. Elizabeth stood at the bedside, looking down at the pirate. She had forgotten her reason for coming, forgotten she still was not supposed to be here for another day. But... it was Jack.

Without another thought, Elizabeth knelt on the bed and lay down beside the pirate, resting her head in the crook of his neck and draping an arm across his chest. He was warm. Elizabeth trailed a finger across one of his cheeks, marveling at how the golden light caramelized his tanned skin. He still had that awful hair, but it looked cleaned; he still had those two braids for a beard, but it had been neatened. Elizabeth bit her lip and closed her eyes, pretending he was merely sleeping even when she couldn't feel his chest rise from breathing.

"I am so very lost, Jack," she whispered. "I don't understand what is happening. Barbossa is back, did you know? And he is so very infuriating, but kind. At least to me. But he's helped us so far, so we must be grateful for that. Gibbs is here, and Cotton and Marty, even Pintel and Ragetti. And Will. Oh, Will... I do love him, Jack, I'm sure I do. But then I saw you again and... Something is wrong with him, too. Every time that bloody locket- look, I'm swearing like a pirate. I guess you were right, Jack. I am a pirate."

Tears flowed slowly down her face, trailing alongside her nose, over her lips, and into Jack's coat. Elizabeth clutched a handful of his shirt and she turned her face in to him. She sobbed into his neck, his shirt, his jacket.

"Oh, Jack, I am so very sorry! I didn't want to- I had to! I know I said I wasn't sorry, but I am! I am so terribly sorry! I- I miss you, Jack. I miss you."

Something moved beneath her hand, and Elizabeth lifted her head slightly, looking at Jack's chest. Elizabeth felt it again, and she realized it was... his heart. It was beating. Before she could move, the pirate's chest expanded- he was breathing. The air was let out in a hollow huff, and his chest expanded again. Then, as Elizabeth held her own breath, she heard a gruff sigh...

"Ohhhh... I need some bloody rum..."


	9. Chapter 9

"Jack?" Elizabeth whispered, pushing herself up onto a forearm. 

Jack's chest continued to rise and fall, the sound of his breathing ragged and strained. The pirate's face was no longer calm, but furrowed from exertion. The breathing became more regular, and Elizabeth felt his heart fall into a steady rhythm.

"Ohhhh..." Jack groaned, scowling.

Hesitantly, Jack opened his eyes, looking straight up at the hanging crosses and crystals above him. Bemused, his eyes shifted to the right, then left, then straight ahead. His face fell and he groaned again.

"I wasn't supposed t' be dead," he rasped, his words still harsh.

"Jack!" Elizabeth smiled, tears still streaming down her face, but for a different reason.

Jack's eyes shifted to her. He didn't move, looking her over, and then he smiled. That despicably roguish smile that showed his golden teeth and lit up his face like a beacon.

"And I'm in heaven," he said, grinning. He moved to get up, but only his neck and head jerked. Frowning, he tried again. And again. And again. Jack wrenched his head back and forth until he gave up, dropping back to the pallet.

"Was I really that bad? Honestly," he muttered to himself, rocking his head back and forth. "There was that one time with th' nun... and impersonating th' cleric... I was not aware that wine was for communion. Truly, mate. But do I really deserve this? I finally get Elizabeth in my bed and I can't move? I should have been a Mormon..."

"Jack, you're not dead," Elizabeth said. The pirate halted his piteous rant, opening one eye to survey her.

"Am I not?"

"No!"

"Then why the bloody hell can't I move?"

"You were dead-" Elizabeth attempted to explain.

"Was I?"

"And now you're alive-"

"As you said."

"And... well, I'm not sure why you can't move."

"Hmm..." Jack went still, his jaw working back and forth as he processed the little information he was given. "I was dead, but now I'm not. And from being dead, I cannot move in th' living, which makes it all the more appealing to be dead. But wot if I was dead, and she was living, and in death I- blast, I can't think when I'm sober. You couldn't get be a bit of rum now, could you, love?"

"I shouldn't, because Tia Dalma-" Elizabeth began, but fell silent as footsteps sounded in the front room.

"Dalma?" Jack's eyes grew wide, and he began to whisper, "Elizabeth, get out of here. Go anywhere but-"

"Wot de Devil be ye doin' here?" Elizabeth spun around to find Tia Dalma, shaking with anger, standing on the landing of the back room. From her fist dangles three shrunken heads, their miniature mouths agape in silent screams.

"Lovely t' see you, Dalma," Jack said, tension underlying his words. "Or, I would see you, if I could move."

"Ye fool! Ye could'a ruined everyt'ing!" Dalma screamed, kicking candles aside as she made her way to Elizabeth. "His soul could'a gotten lost, or a ghost might'a taken his place! Ye might'a invited him too soon! Ye lucky I fixed his lungs b'fore ye came seekin' da man! Ye could'a ruined me work! Ye could'a-"

"Upset I stopped you from trapping his soul?" Elizabeth spat, climbing off the bed to face the voodoo woman. "Then you could have had two pirate slaves: Jack and Barbossa!"

"Wot's Barbossa got to do with anything?" Jack called, but he was ignored as the two women glared into each other's faces.

"Ye worry too much of others," Dalma hissed. "Everyt'ing be fine if ye'd let it be."

"And what of Will?" Elizabeth scowled. "What are you doing to him?"

"Pretty William? I am nae doin' a t'ing," Dalma smirked, brushing Elizabeth's arm with her blackened fingernails and the shrunken heads. "Ye da one who be pushin' him away."

"I am doing no such thing! You're the one who sent the locket with us. You ordered that I wear it. You made me sing that accursed song!" Elizabeth cried, fists clenching at her sides.

"No worries. I think I can feel my arms now," Jack called out to no avail.

"What do you aim to gain by bewitching Will?" Elizabeth demanded. "Do you think he would leave me? Will loves me!"

"Or does William love da locket?" Dalma smirked. "Tell Dalma, Miz 'Lizabet', when did William kiss ye? When he be unda' da spell o' da locket? An' when he angry, he can't recall da locket?"

Elizabeth bit back a retort as she remembered Will's glazed look, his amorous smile whenever the locket was present or that mysterious melody played. Then she saw he was only upset with her when she had broken the locket's sway over him. Will was falling in love with a trinket...

"True, eh?" Dalma smiled at Elizabeth's flustered expression. "Poor Miz 'Lizabet'. Losin' her man to da evils o' da sea."

"I can sit now! Please, don't hurry over. I think I just wiggled a toe," Jack said, propping himself up on his arms. "Oh, look! A girlie fight!"

"Stay out of this!" Elizabeth and Dalma chorused before turning back to their adversary.

"And why are you so pleased with Will's bewitchment?" Elizabeth scowled. "If the locket belonged to Davy Jones' lost love, then Will is enamored with her, not you. And she happens to be dead!"

Tia Dalma grinned, baring the gray and blackened teeth in smug victory. She grabbed Elizabeth's upper arm, pulling her closer. Tilting her head to one side, eyes sparkling fiendishly, Tia Dalma whispered, "Are ye sure 'bout dat?"

Elizabeth frowned as Tia Dalma pulled away, smiling darkly. Jack finally pushed himself off the bed, wheeling his arms as he found his center of gravity, and he threw them around Elizabeth to steady himself- or he made it look to be that way. The pirate gave her his suavest smile, his hands slipping lower around her waist, but Elizabeth couldn't tear her eyes away from Dalma.

"We have company," the voodoo woman said, nodding to the front room. The door slammed open, hurried footsteps pattered across the floorboards, and Will burst into the room.

"Elizabeth, I-" He stopped, his eyes falling on Jack with Elizabeth in his arms, the pirate's hands becoming very friendly on the young woman. His face hardened, hands curling into fists as he strode toward them.

"Ah, dear William!" Jack grinned, letting Elizabeth go to spread his arms wide. "How goes everything with that father of yours? Still as waterlogged as I last re-"

Will's arm was a blur as it swung out, fist colliding with the side of Jack's jaw. The pirate spun entirely around, cross-eyed and arms still outstretched in greeting, before collapsing limply to the bed. The room was filled with screams, protests, and violent swearing.

"You filthy pirate! You ruin everything! It was your fault my wedding was stopped and I was arrested! It was your fault I got stuck on the blasted Flying Dutchman! And, while I'm trying to steal your bloody key, you go after my Elizabeth! You can't rest until my entire life is in shambles, can you? Can you?" Will roared, lunging at Jack with fists raised, but Elizabeth and Tia Dalma fell on him, wrestling him back.

"Will! Leave him alone! Will!" Elizabeth shrieked, dragging his arm down.

"Ye'll ruin me work! D'ye know how much time goes into da corpse? Stop stop stop!" Dalma howled, leaping onto Will's back to pummel his head. "Ye daft man! Stop!"

The two women eventually pulled Will away, shoving him into a chair across the room. Elizabeth stayed at his side, clutching his shoulders to calm him, and Tia Dalma ran to Jack, who was sitting on the edge of the bed with a hand to his jaw.

"Me poor Jack! Did he break da tooth?" Dalma cooed, opening his mouth to account for damage. "How be da lungs? Da heart? Dis hurt? Dat hurt? Tell yer Tia Dalma so she can fix it."

"Nice t' see you too, Will," Jack muttered after Tia Dalma took her fingers from his mouth. "Do you greet everyone that way now, or am I just the lucky cad o' the day, eh?"

"You- you foul, treacherous, wretched-" Will snarled.

"Licentious, charismatic, inebriated, attractive- anything else to add, mate?" Jack grinned, wincing in the process. "I've heard it all."

"You kissed Elizabeth!" Will bellowed, jumping to his feet. Elizabeth backed away, her eyes going wide as she thought, _He saw!_

"My lips were not near the fair Miss Swann," Jack pointed out, unaware of what Will was referring to. "I was, however, attempting a nice cop, but you rudely interrupted. Manners!"

"I'm talking about on the Pearl," Will hissed. "You kissed her right before we left the ship. Before you died!"

"On the Pearl..." Jack's face contorted as he attempted to recall the incident. When he did, he gave a crooked smile, mumbling, "Oh, aye, now I remember..." As Will came forward again, furious, Jack's face fell and he quickly added, "I wasn't the one who started that blasted kiss!"

"What?" Will frowned, halting halfway toward the pirate. "What's the meaning-"

"If I started that blasted kiss, why would I then shackle myself to the mainmast? Because I had a keen itch to be swallowed by that brute of Davy Jones?" Jack reasoned.

"But- you had to have started the kiss..." Will scowled, "or else..."

"Nice form, Elizabeth has," Jack grinned. "Distracted me completely. Barely felt that manacle round my wrist. Have you ever considered assassinations, love? Make a killing in that market."

"Elizabeth?" Will turned back, looking to where Elizabeth was standing, her eyes brimming with tears.

"Good kisser. Good pirate," Jack said, nodding his admiration.

"Will, I had to," Elizabeth said desperately. "The Kraken wanted Jack. We would have all died!"

"But... you kissed Jack?" Will asked weakly.

"I am so sorry, Will, but I had to. Please forgive me!" Elizabeth was pleading now. She reached out for Will's hand, but he twitched it away.

"If you had to, then why didn't you tell me?" Will demanded.

"I thought you'd hate me. I caused Jack to die!" sobbed Elizabeth, collapsing onto the chair. "I thought the crew would desert me. I thought- I thought-"

"But- you kissed Jack!" Will cried.

"Will, she did the right thing," Jack offered, stumbling to his feet. "I would have gotten you all killed. She had the spit to do it. And the lips. And the tongue..."

"Will, please forgive me," Elizabeth whispered. "I- I love you!"

To this statement, mixed emotions flickered through the room. Tia Dalma rolled her eyes, shooting a glare at Elizabeth. Jack swallowed deeply, staring at her before casting his gaze to the ceiling, twiddling with a braid nervously. Will simply shook his head, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palm.

"What is wrong with you, Elizabeth?" he sighed, fatigue steeped in his voice. "You keep talking to Barbossa as if you're best mates, you insist I'm bewitched-"

"But you are!" Elizabeth cried. "Will, you must believe me!"

"And you kissed Jack. Jack Sparrow!" Will said.

"Wot's wrong with that?" Jack frowned.

"Elizabeth, just stop these eccentricities!" Will begged. "Sometimes I- I don't know who you are anymore!"

"Will!" Elizabeth choked, face stained with fresh tears.

Will, looking down at his fiancé, simply shook his head. He walked out of the room, Elizabeth staring after him. The front door slammed shut, and there was silence.

"Are ye sure da man loves ye?" Tia Dalma smirked, passing Elizabeth as she walked back to the front room. "Jack, come wit' me. Been too long since ye had a drink. Tia Dalma fix ye somet'ing nice."

"A bottle o' rum will do, Dalma," Jack called, sitting back on the bed to rub his face. "God, I hate being sober."

Tia Dalma came back a moment later, carrying two bottles of rum and wearing a pleased expression. She strutted over to Jack, handing him a bottle with a sly wink, but Jack waved her off, swiping the second rum at the same time.

"I'm sure you've had your fun with me in my state of... er, death," he said, gesturing at her with a limp wrist, "but I've been too long without th' spirits. Leave me to my first love!"

"Best hope I fixed yer liver," Tia Dalma scowled, but she flounced out of the room nonetheless.

Jack uncorked the first bottle and, tipping his head back, drained half of it in one long pull. The pirate collapsed sideways on the bed, happily guzzling alcohol. He glanced up with a third left and watched the tears drip off of Elizabeth's face to splatter upon her gown, leaving black stains on plum.

"Drink up, love," he said softly, rolling the second bottle across the room. It hit Elizabeth's ankle gently, and she looked up to meet Jack's dark eyes. Not the same chocolate brown as Will's, but blacker, like strong liquor on a warm Caribbean night.

"Rum will fix nothing at all, Jack," Elizabeth said hoarsely.

"Aye, but you won't feel the pain as much," Jack said.

Elizabeth saw something flicker in the dark depths of Jack's eyes. He didn't want to get her drunk so he could take advantage of her; it wasn't lust in his eyes. Jack simply didn't want her sad. Elizabeth gave the pirate a weak smile and, grabbing the bottle from her feet, uncorked it and let the rum flow between her lips, burning and warming all the way down.

"Drink up, me hearties, yo ho..." she said quietly to herself, slowly slipping into a dreamless sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**A fresh chapter for you! A great many things are explained, or at least I believe so. And right after you start to understand, it gets more peculiar. Such is my story. Thank you all for your positive feedback. Enjoy!**

Elizabeth awoke to steaming sunlight through the cracks in Tia Dalma's shack. Pushing herself upright in her chair, the empty bottle of rum out of her lap and hit her foot, causing her to swear quietly. Frowning, Elizabeth arose and went into the front room hesitantly, remembering the confrontations from the night prior. To her relief, the front room was void of life in the early morning.

A hand came around Elizabeth to clap over her mouth, and she screamed. She was spun around and she came face to face with Jack, his signature sway restored with the little rum he drank the evening before. Jack placed a finger to his lips, offering a lopsided smile, and taking her hand, led her out of Tia Dalma's shack and into the only rowboat left at the dock.

Sitting in the stern, Elizabeth watched as Jack threw the line off and took up the oars. With smooth, fluid motions, he sent the boat gliding down the inlet, passes mangrove trees and low hanging branches. Once the pair had sailed a good distance from Tia Dalma's shack, Jack stored the oars and pinned Elizabeth with a level stare.

"A lot has happened, eh?" he smirked.

Elizabeth didn't answer; she looked out over the water, watching the ripples move away from the boat as they slowly drifted.

"All right, how 'bout you tell ol' Jack the whole story?" Elizabeth looked back at the pirate, who's penetrating gaze was unshakable. Biting her lip, Elizabeth blinked away any tears that might threaten, and she began.

She told Jack how guilty she was about leaving him to die, and how awful it felt to betray Will. She told about meeting Barbossa and their quest to rescue their captain. She recounted their long journey to the Kraken, and even into the beast. Jack shuddered at this section, but he never let his eyes waver from Elizabeth's. She went on to describe how the locket was first introduced, how Will began to fall under its spell, and how no one else was affected. She told the pirate about her conversations with Barbossa, leaving out the parts that involved possible feelings for Jack, and everything she had learned from the mutinous captain. She finished off her tale with a description of the night prior, leading up to Jack awakening, and fell silent.

Jack didn't make a sound after her story ended; he leaned back in the boat, toying with the beads and coins that hung from his scarf and hair. His fingers beat a tattoo on the hull of the boat, and his eyes skimmed the tree canopy as if in a daze. Elizabeth was beginning to lose patience when the pirate finally broke the solitude.

"So Barbossa is back..." he chuckled. "I knew I should have shot him twice for good measure. But th' whole 'one bullet' theme was too romantic t' give up, wouldn't you agree, love?"

"You're not helping," Elizabeth pouted, crossing her arms stubbornly.

"Yes, right, right," Jack muttered. "Hmm... well, I commend Barbossa on helping you. Anyone who has a deal with Dalma quickly learns to hate her. Which is why I avoid her at all costs... up until recent resurrections, that is.

"Now, it seems that you are not too worried about what price Tia Dalma will be extracting from you for said 'help'," pointed Jack, narrowing his eyes at her, "as much as you worry about dear William."

"Well, she's bewitched him!" Elizabeth cried. "I keep trying to do something about it, but- I am making it worse."

"Not your fault, love," Jack said comfortingly. "She wants Will, for whatever reason that is. Perhaps if I mentioned the little snip-snip..."

"Will is not a eunuch!"

"Apologies. A touchy subject, I see."

"What I want to know," Elizabeth plowed on, ignoring Jack as his boot began to nudge her leg very provocatively, "is how she's using that stupid locket. How can Will be falling in love with it?"

"He's not falling in love with it," Jack said. "You said Will recognized it from the Flying Dutchman, aye?" Elizabeth nodded. "Well, the locket that Davy Jones' has is cursed to make any man listening fall desperately and lustily in love with Davy 's sweetheart. That woman wanted Jones to always suffer, so whenever Jones hears the locket play, he falls in love with her again."

"That's cruel," Elizabeth frowned. "But I still don't understand. So Will heard the original song on the Dutchman. Why wasn't he smitten then?"

"He was in love with you," Jack shrugged. "Takes a while to fall out of love."

"Well, that explains why the effects didn't start right away." Elizabeth bit her lip, still unable to fit the pieces together. "But he should still be in love with Jones' sweetheart. Why is Tia Dalma doing all this?"

"Because," Jack sighed, "Tia Dalma _is_ Davy Jones' sweetheart."

"Wha- I'm sorry, that's impossible!" Elizabeth gaped. "Jones is immortal, and Dalma should have-"

"Jones is kept alive by th' hope that Dalma would one day love him," Jack explained. "Poor fool. And so long as Jones loves her, Dalma stays immortal with him. When he dies, that wench is mortal again."

"So... Will is falling in love with Tia Dalma... When does he realize that, well, he's in love with-"

"Don't worry, I'm sure Dalma is slowly pulling him in," Jack scowled, looking out over the bayou.

"Will is love with... Dalma." The words were harsh in Elizabeth's ears, a heavy sadness weighing down around her. "Why... this wasn't supposed to... why?..."

"Drink?" A bottle appeared beneath Elizabeth's nose. She blinked in surprise, shaking her head. Shrugging, Jack uncorked the materialized alcohol and took a long swig. "Ahh, there is nothing sweeter than stolen rum," he sighed, his muscles relaxing all along his body.

"How do you know so much about Jones and Dalma?" Elizabeth asked.

"Th' last time I needed the Pearl raised from the bottom of the ocean, I went to Dalma first," Jack mumbled, stopping to drink between words. "She gave me the locket that you wore as part of my bargaining tools. Don't ask why she has a copy of Jones' locket, she's too clever for her own good. Now, when Jones saw it, I think he may have mistaken me for his bonny lass. Man's been so saturated he can't remember wot she looks like."

"The Kraken took me for Tia Dalma, too," Elizabeth said.

"Well, you've got the right accoutrements. I, on th' other hand-" Jack shuddered, pulling faces that made Elizabeth laugh despite herself. "Luckily he realized I wasn't her before I had t' insist on no tongues."

"But you still got the Black Mark on you," Elizabeth pointed out.

"Th' man was upset that I had his woman's locket. So he cursed me and sent me on my way with my ship. Then I went back t' Dalma, gave her th' locket, and paid my fee." Jack rubbed the back of his neck emphatically as he recalled the incident. "Got th' scars t' prove it.

"However," Jack continued, "I got t' hear the merry tale of their fated romance while Dalma stitched up the gaping wound she left. Sure is cheerful after rooting round your innards. She was a poor voodoo woman, he a promising naval captain, on o' the first in the Caribbean. He gave her money, riches, everything- and in return she gave him that cursed locket and said she'd never love him back. And that is why that man is a bitter squid-thingy, lost to the waves and her spite."

"It's actually quite sad, when the pair aren't trying to kill you," Elizabeth smirked.

"Breaks my heart it does. Right terrible. Which is why, Miss Elizabeth, I am offering my services." Jack quickly moved to the stern of the boat, hooking an arm around her with a leer in his eyes. "You, a poor, beautiful young woman, crossed in love, seeking comfort and compassion."

"Mr. Sparrow-" Elizabeth protested.

"Come now, love!" Jack grinned, his other hand slipping down to her thigh. "Let's see how smartly Dalma patched me up, eh?'

"I am not doing anything with you," Elizabeth cried.

"You kissed me," Jack accused.

"And then I shackled you to your own ship to die," Elizabeth countered.

"You were in my bed last night," Jack grinned, recalling the memory.

"I was distraught and looking for Dalma," Elizabeth said.

"You were devouring me with those lovely eyes," Jack murmured.

"I was n- you think my eyes are lovely?"

"Inescapably, incomparably, intoxicatingly ravishing," smiled Jack, looked at her from beneath heavy lids.

"Really?" Elizabeth bit her lip, contemplating the offer.

"Quite!"

"Well... Jack, we left Will alone with Dalma!"

"She'll realize he's a eunuch soon enough. Now, back to those lovely eyes..." Jack leaned in toward Elizabeth, but she sat up abruptly and the pirate missed entirely, shaking the boat in the process.

"You proved Tia Dalma was a cruel and wicked woman! We can't let her torment Will!" Elizabeth cried.

"Sure we can! He's a strong lad, and he doesn't need both kidneys."

"Jack!"

"Elizabeth! You, me, boat, rum, freedom, corset-"

"Mr. Sparrow," Elizabeth frowned, pushing Jack away as he made another attempt to kiss her. "You will now row us back to the dock, and you will help me rescue Will!"

Jack sat still for a moment, glaring coolly at Elizabeth even though his hand still rested well above her knee. Then, with much grumbling, he moved away from her and took up the oars again, turning the boat around to head back to Tia Dalma's. Elizabeth gave him a smile, but he didn't return the sentiment.

"I really appreciate it, Jack," she said.

"That lad doesn't know wot he's got," Jack muttered to himself, and Elizabeth felt something near her heart flutter at his words.

"Jack Sparrow, you old dog!"

As Jack tied the boat off at the dock, Gibbs ran down to meet him, catching the pirate in a bear hug. His arms pinned to his sides, Jack grimaced at the affection and muttered, "I would like to point out that I am neither as canine or nearly as old as you, mate. Now set me down, the lady's watching."

"Miss Elizabeth, are you feeling any better from last night?" Gibbs asked politely, helping her out of the boat. Jack raised his eyebrows at this statement, tilting his head to one side but Elizabeth paid him no heed.

"I am perfectly well, Mr. Gibbs, and was well the prior evening also," Elizabeth replied sharply.

"If you insist... Jack, Tia Dalma wants you in the house. She won't let the lot of us inside, so we've been waiting for you," Gibbs nodded.

"Right, then we mustn't keep Dalma from wanting me further, then." Jack looped an arm around Elizabeth and swayed up the steps, his free hand flopping limply with each step.

"She won't want to see me, Jack," Elizabeth began, but he wouldn't hear a word of it.

"I want you there, and if Dalma wants me, she'll want what I want. So truly Dalma wants you, which I think is right peculiar, as she's seducing your betrothed, but Dalma wants what I want, eh?"

Passing Ragetti, Pintel, Marty, and Cotton, all of whom sat patiently on the porch after their banishment, Jack and Elizabeth entered the shack. Tia Dalma was sitting at the table with Will, holding his hand in hers. She was tracing the lines on his palm, smiling to herself as she worked. Will was staring at her, something cloudy in his gaze, and he didn't notice as Jack and Elizabeth came in. Elizabeth, after a moment, heard Dalma humming quietly beneath her breath. Humming the locket's lullaby. Her throat closed as Will continued to watch Tia Dalma, the bewildered look slowly turning warm.

"Ah, such destiny! Such fate! Such strong hands," Tia Dalma purred, fingertips slipping over Will's lifeline and wrist. "See der, on yer hand. B'tween da sun and da heart line. Dat show Tia Dalma dat ye are an amorous lover, eh? Come, William, ye can tell Dalma. Ye're good, eh?"

"Well, this conversation is certainly getting interesting," Jack said, taking the seat beside Dalma. The woman jumped and shot a venomous glare at the pirate, who had awoken Will from his daze. "Now, I hate t' be the bearer of bad news- well, actually, I quite enjoy it- but your attentions are, sadly, in vain. You see, William is wot they call a-"

"Captain Jack Sparrow! Fancy seein' ye breathin' again. I must say, ye did a fine job o' ruinin' my ship!"

Jack jerked around, staring at the doorway to the back room where Barbossa leaned, polishing a green apple on his lapel. A twitch came across Jack's face and he rose, one hand resting on his sword hilt while the other gestured toward his nemesis.

"Barbossa, you look... alive," Jack said contemptuously, looking the other pirate over. "The grave not pleasant enough for you? Because I can arrange for a much more comfortable demise. Slit throat? Poison? Death by monkey? Take your pick."

"Ye'd be more grateful t'ward me, Jack, being as I'm th' reason ye're breathin' this fine day," Barbossa sneered, biting into the apple to release a spray of juice.

"No, I have Tia Dalma to thank, as I'm sure you aren't practicing necromancy now, are you? Thought not."

"Wot be ye doin' here?" Tia Dalma scowled at Elizabeth, who was still standing patiently at the door. "I only asked fo' Jack!"

"And I asked for her, and as you are presently seducing her fiancé," Will's cheeks colored and he edged his chair away from Dalma, "she should be aware of any type of propositions set before him. Temptation's an awful thing, ain't it, mate?" Jack asked the blacksmith, who's mouth worked soundlessly for some sort of answer. "Now, wot needs discussing, Tia my darling Dalma?"

"Ye must be now goin' after da heart o' Davy Jones," Dalma said, somewhat coldly as Barbossa and Elizabeth both took seats, Jack choosing to roam the room instead. "Da man Beck-at 'as it, an' he be sailin' t' meet Jones on da open sea. Ye must beat 'im t' it, an' steal back da heart b'fore Jones arrives."

"And you, of course, know exactly where Becket will be meeting Jones?" Elizabeth met Dalma's eyes with a malicious glare.

"O' course!" Dalma spat.

"Well, isn't that surprising," Elizabeth sneered.

"Wot the pretty Elizabeth is trying t' say is, how the Devil do you suggest we get the heart back from the East Indian Trading Company, all the while keeping ol' Jones-y from trying anything funny, hmm?" Jack asked, trailing a finger down Elizabeth's neck as he passed behind her chair. Elizabeth watched as Will's eyes followed the path of Jack's hand with jealousy glinting in his eyes, and she felt oddly comforted.

"Dat will be discussed when it comes," Tia Dalma frowned.

"Well, wot about figuring in that Jones has no qualms about calling on that beastie of his? Once he sees us fighting Lord Becket, won't he be keen t' join the fray with the Kraken if only to buy him more time in stealing back his heart?" Jack leaned over the table, raising an eyebrow in question to Dalma opposite him.

"Ye seem intent on a plan, Jack," Barbossa pointed out, stroking his beard as he watched Jack work.

"It is my impression," Jack went on, strolling around the table to stand behind the voodoo woman, "that we have no plan of attack. And with no plan, our chances of victory have dwindled. And if we are losing chances, we might as well quit b'fore we start, eh?"

"Wot be ye suggestin', Jack Spar-row?" Tia Dalma inquired hesitantly.

"I suggest that we do not meet Becket on open water," Jack said, continuing his circling of the room. "He'd see us well before we could attack, calling Jones to his aid if necessary. The course we must be taking is to catch him before his ship ever leaves port. Jones can't touch land, so we would only have to contend with the East Indian Trading Company."

"They are not to be underestimated, Jack," Will said sharply, speaking for the first time since attacking the pirate the evening prior. "By now, they must own all of Port Royal."

"Ah, but it seems your Lord Becket has a fetish for the strange," Jack went on. "And, while it is hard to top the beating heart of Davy Jones, we still have enough peculiarities in our midst. For example, you have two previously dead pirates, one woman who can soothe the raging Kraken, and a witch doctor who could give immortality-" Jack froze mid-stride, mouth open. Tilting his head to one side, he rounded on Tia Dalma, who frowned.

"Immortality," Jack grinned, spreading his arms wide. "That, mates, is the downfall of every power hungry Englishman. Think, now! Why control the seas for a short time when said Lord Becket will eventually be placed into the cold, unforgiving grave? He could control the seas forever if he were immortal."

"But we don't want Becket immortal," Will frowned.

"We do when he's on the crew of the Flying Dutchman," Jack smiled.

"Ye intend t' steal th' heart o' Davy Jones from this Lord Becket, all the while tricking him into an eternity of servitude aboard th' Flyin' Dutchman, leavin' ye with th' heart an' no oe to hang crimes over yer head?" Barbossa asked, somewhat incredulously.

Jack considered it for a moment before replying, "Yes, that's about it."

"Mad, but brilliant," Barbossa grinned. "I'm in."

"But we're going to kill Davy Jones, so what's the point of putting him on Jones' ship?" Will inquired.

"First and foremost, young Turner, it is to rid ourselves of one meddlesome mortal with a fixation involving killing anything resembling a pirate," Jack said. "Secondly, we shan't be killing Jones forthwith. I would greatly like my ship returned to me and can only do that through the hocus pocus of Jones-y himself. And thirdly... there is no thirdly, so refer back to the first and second to answer your question."

"Who be da one runnin' dis, eh?" Tia Dalma demanded, getting to her feet. "We go by me plan, Spar-row!"

"Last I checked, I was the one who was coming up with the plans that save all and bring heaps of treasure," Jack replied, swaying over to lean into Tia Dalma's face, a smile to his lips, "so I believe it is my word we'll be following. Savvy?"

Tia Dalma's lip curled disdainfully, her eyes skimming over Jack's person with an air of ownership. Elizabeth watched as Tia Dalma fought to keep dominance over him, but she couldn't beat Jack when it came to planning. She could intimidate him, but Dalma knew Jack's plot was the superior.

"Den, Jack, let me take me payment from ye now," she hissed, bringing a hand up to toy with one of the pirate's braids.

"Wot about the others' payments?" Jack frowned.

"Barbossa almost done wit' his, sweet William pay soon, an' 'Lizabet'..." Tia Dalma looked over and grinned blackened teeth at the woman in question, causing Elizabeth to recoil somewhat.

"Then wot, dear Dalma, is my payment?" Jack asked, attempting to be cheerful even while dread began to seep into his voice. "I'm rather attached to all vital organs, so-"

"I want ye t' perform a marriage," Tia Dalma smiled.

The room was a bit astounded by this request, Barbossa even grinding his teeth audibly at the injustice. Jack seemed even more taken aback by Dalma's payment. After a pause, he ventured, "A marriage?"

"Fo' Miz 'Lizabet'," Dalma nodded.

"You must not have corrected my ears, Dalma, because I thought I heard you say you want me to perform Elizabeth's marriage," Jack frowned.

"Ye heard correct," Tia Dalma nodded. "I been so... unkind t' poor Miz 'Lizabet', I should a' least ensure dat she marries. Not now, o' course, but soon." Dalma looked past Jack to where Elizabeth sat and smirked, "Wot say ye, eh? 'Ave Jack perform yer marriage?"

"Tha- that is... fine?" Elizabeth stammered. She looked across the table to Will, who looked just as taken aback by this offer. Will, seeming to forget his ill toward her, nodded his contentment with the offer, and Elizabeth replied stronger, "Yes, that would be pleasant. Thank you, Tia Dalma."

"No, t'ank _ye_, child," Tia Dalma grinned. "I know ye'd be very happy married."

"Am I missing something here?" Jack frowned.

"Don' ye worry, Jack," Tia Dalma said. "Git yer crew t'get'er. We sail a' dawn."

Tia Dalma moved away, shooting a glance at Elizabeth that could not have been friendly, and turned to the back room. Barbossa rose, about to voice the unfair nature in which she was treating him and Jack, when he was cut off by Sparrow. Jack jumped in front of Tia Dalma, his brows knitted and looking the picture of bewilderment.

"I'm sorry, but Dalma, did you say '_we_' are sailing at dawn? As in including you? As in you will leave this shack and sail with us to face danger and almost sudden death?"

"O' course, Jack," Tia Dalma smiled, reaching a hand up to stroke Jack's cheek. The pirate pulled away, grimacing at her touch. Dalma looked back at Elizabeth, narrowing her eyes at the other woman, before responding, "I 'ave t' look out fo' my... investments."


	11. Chapter 11

Elizabeth sat in the bow of the row boat, yawning placidly in the chill air. It was just before sunrise, a light fog hovering over the water, smoke-like. Elizabeth looked back at the people in her boat; Jack and Gibbs were rowing, side by side, and Will and Ragetti sat in the stern. Elizabeth had not spoken to Will since their meeting with Tia Dalma; the suggestion of marriage had sparked something in Will's eyes, that look of longing Elizabeth remembered in him before they had set out on this adventure. If they were still getting married, and Tia Dalma seemed to be encouraging some sort of marriage, it would probably be best if Elizabeth resolved her problems with Will before the voodoo woman could change her mind. 

Standing up, Elizabeth wobbled slightly as the boat shook. Wheeling one arm, she hiked up her skirt with the other and pushed her way in between Jack and Gibbs. The pair gave her a peculiar look, Jack's eyes traveling down to her bare legs, and Elizabeth hopped her way over their bench. Kneeling in front on Will, she grabbed his hands and looked up into his surprised face.

"I'm sorry," she said, squeezing his fingers as she spoke. "I should have told you about what happened on the Pearl, but I was afraid of what you might think of me. That, perhaps, I was turning pirate."

"What happened on th' Pearl?" Gibbs whispered behind her.

"Miss Elizabeth kissed me right good, then left me to die, shackled t' the mainmast," Jack explained, a hint of pride to his words.

"Oh."

"But, Will, I love you," Elizabeth went on. "I don't know if you have feelings for... Tia Dalma..." Will swallowed nervously, his eyes casting over Elizabeth's head where he met the disapproving glare of Jack, "but if you still want to marry me... I still want to marry you."

"You do?" Will asked hoarsely.

"I do."

"This is so roma'tic!" Ragetti sniffled. "True love beatin' th' odds."

"Alrigh', someone has t' stop this confessional and get in the bow, because this is making it bloody hard t' row!" Jack snapped.

"In a moment, Jack," Elizabeth hissed.

"No, now, missy. Or else I shall put you there myself, and I'm none too polite about how I deal with women," the pirate replied. "Now get up there!"

"Fine!" Elizabeth scowled. "You have no compassion, Captain Sparrow."

"I've a great deal o' compassion, Miss Swann. But you were getting right pathetic there, and I had t' rescue your dignity."

"Thank you for your thoughts. Now row, you dog!"

"If she ain't a pirate, then I'm a monkey's uncle," Gibbs chuckled beneath his breath.

"So we had you to blame for that God forsaken blighter on my ship?" Jack scowled at Gibbs. "Not good form, mate."

The rowboat arrived at the harbor soon enough, revealing the Asian junk swarming with natives. Tia Dalma and Barbossa could be seen from the aft deck; Marty, Cotton, and Pintel at the railing ready to hoist the last rowboat up. Jack and Gibbs hooked their boat up to the dangling tackle, and soon the last five of the crew were aboard.

"Spar-row!" Tia Dalma called, beckoning him up to the aft deck. "Ye'll be da captain!"

"And does this pretty ship have a name?" Jack asked, taking the steps two at a time. "No? Then as Captain, I dub this ship the Bonny Lass! Wot say you, Barbossa? Enjoy being atop a Bonny Lass every now an' then?"

"Don' make me take yer title o' Captain away, Spar-row!" Tia Dalma scowled. "Name off yer stations, Captain. I'll be residin' in da cabin, if ye need me."

"Fair enough," Jack frowned, watching as the bustle of Dalma's dress worked back and forth as she left. "Barbossa, you'll be helmsman. Gibbs, navigator! Master Turner! Take stock of weaponry and gun powder. Marty, bow lookout. Cotton, find me a bottle of rum. A big one! Ragetti, Pintel, aid th' crew with wotever they need. Snap to it! Move, ye scabless dogs!"

"And what of me, Jack?" Elizabeth inquired, meeting him halfway on the steps as he came down.

"You will be my cabin boy! Girl. Wotever," Jack smiled.

"And that entails doing what?" Elizabeth asked suspiciously.

"Everything that usually goes on in my cabin," Jack murmured, reaching out for her waist. Elizabeth slapped his hands away and Jack drew them back to his chest, pouting.

"I am attempting to keep Tia Dalma from bewitching Will any more, and you will not help my case if you are trying to handle me!" chided Elizabeth.

"But Lizzie, love-"

"No, Jack! You've had your fun! Now give me a real job!"

"I've got nothing for you, so off you go," Jack grumbled. "Off! Go! If you won't aid a poor pirate with his needs, I've no use for you!"

"You are unbelievable!" Elizabeth sighed, exasperated.

"If I made my excuse more believable, would you allow for a nice cop in the storage hold?" Jack inquired.

"No!"

"Then away with you."

"Unbelievable!" Elizabeth muttered to herself as she went to aid the crew with tying off one of the fan-shaped sails.

The ship sailed at full speed all throughout the day, not even resting for the evening. Jack dismissed the crew after sunset, letting Gibbs take the helm for the first half of the night. Suppers were doled out, and Elizabeth found herself tucked away on the deck with her bowl of rice and beans. Leaning back against a coil of rope, Elizabeth thought longingly of the days when she drank wine instead of rum and ate real food for her meals. Nevertheless, she tucked into her bowl, noting that the native cook was far superior to Gibbs' lacking attempts at cooking.

"I forgot how hard Jack works his crew," Will sighed, sitting down beside her with his supper in his hand.

"An absolute slave driver," Elizabeth said, smiling at having Will so close to her.

"So, did I hear correctly yesterday?" Will said under his breath as he picked at his rice. "Tia Dalma wants Jack to marry us?"

"She said she wants Jack to perform my marriage, but I guess she meant our marriage," Elizabeth shrugged.

"And I thought she hated you," Will smirked. Elizabeth snorted into her bowl, but she was quickly silenced as a shape blocked their lantern light, casting the pair into darkness. Elizabeth looked up to see the silhouette of Tia Dalma standing above them, the woman's hands on her wide hips in a no-nonsense manner.

"William," the voodoo woman said, her voice smooth and thick to Elizabeth's ears. "Ye'll be comin' wit' me."

"But I-" Will began.

"William." It was a command, the word laced with malice and some darker element. Will's spine went rigid and he rose, leaving his bowl of supper beside Elizabeth, who sat stunned. Tia Dalma hooked her arm in Will's and pulled him across the ship and up to the aft deck. From the lanterns at the helm, Elizabeth watched as Tia Dalma opened the door to the captain's cabin, pushing Will inside. Dalma shot a look of victory across the deck at Elizabeth, baring her teeth in a feral grin, and she slipped inside the cabin also, snapping the door shut.

"I hate that woman!" Elizabeth shrieked, tossing her bowl across the deck.

"It never suits a lady t' show her true emotions. Always better t' keep her feelin's hidden and a smile t' her lips."

"You could have told me," Elizabeth scowled as Barbossa took Will's seat beside her.

"Told wot, pray tell?" the pirate asked, taking up Will's supper with barely a glance in Elizabeth's direction.

"Who Tia Dalma truly is," Elizabeth snapped.

"Ah, that. Well, as opposed t' Jack Sparrow, who you unwittingly rescued from havin' his soul tied t' Dalma, I am in a tighter contract and am unable t' speak too much ill of her. That being said, I know more than Sparrow does, which is a comfort," Barbossa muttered, fighting down a scowl.

"I don't see why she keeps trying to win over Will," Elizabeth pouted. "I saw the way he looks at me! He still loves me!"

"Tia Dalma is winning him over through his subconscious," Barbossa explained. "When he sleeps, when he daydreams, in his thoughts. She's not seducing him in a physical manner- not yet. She pushing out any thoughts of you that reside in his head, and it seems to be working."

"It's not fair," Elizabeth cried, beating her fist against her knees.

"Wot's not fair, love?" Jack sat down on Elizabeth's other side, shooting a glare over her head at Barbossa. "Off you trot, mate. I need t' speak with Miss Elizabeth."

"Ye mean grope th' fine young lady?" Barbossa sneered.

"You're just jealous that she kissed me and not you," Jack gloated.

"Aye, I'd love for her t' pucker up then leave me t' die as she runs off with her fiancé," Barbossa spat back.

"You're jealous!"

"Jack, quiet!" Elizabeth snapped. Jack drew back, hurt, and Barbossa smirked.

"No love, no love at all," Jack muttered, turning his back to her but not moving from his place.

"Barbossa, Tia Dalma doesn't intend me to marry Will, does she?" Elizabeth whispered. Jack caught wind of this and craned over her shoulder, eager to hear more.

"O' course not," Barbossa said softly, looking across the deck to the captain's cabin. "Tia Dalma's dislike o' ye is a vile thing. Not entirely sure why she hates ye so much; partially because she's been tryin' t' get Master Turner since th' day she saw 'im, an' he's too much in love with ye t' let ye go entirely. But she intends on makin' ye suffer, and through a marriage she'll achieve that and another goal."

"Who does she want me to marry?" Elizabeth inquired, her voice getting fainter as their conversation became darker.

"I can't tell ye, pretty," Barbossa muttered, getting to his feet. "But I suggest that when we dock at Port Royal, don' come back t' th' ship."

Barbossa strode away, nodding at a few crew members still on the deck. Elizabeth gaped after him, taking into account what he had just said. _Don't come back to the ship_. Whatever Tia Dalma had planned, it must be terrible enough that Elizabeth would be better suited not to return.

"I truly dislike that man," Jack grumbled to himself, leaning toward Elizabeth as she stared after Barbossa.

"Jack, do you know who Tia Dalma wants me to marry?" Elizabeth asked, turning to the pirate. In the dim light, she watched Jack scowl and shift away from her.

"No, and you are obsessive with this topic! You want to marry Will, and you worry Will doesn't want to marry you. Then you wonder who Dalma's making you marry, all the while thinking about marrying Will-"

"Jack?" Elizabeth asked softly. "Are you... jealous?"

"Wot? Jealous? I'm not jealous. Jealousy, bah!" Jack sneered. "I've had numerous marriage proposals in my life, several all at once! Half th' women of Tortuga have longed after these bones! Scarlet almost dragged me to the chapel once. Stronger than she looks, that wench-"

"Jack-"

"Miss Elizabeth, I am in no need of your sympathy," Jack frowned, clambering to his feet and dusting himself off in a business-like manner. "I could have any woman in the world! And I will gladly perform your marriage! I'll even kiss the bloody swab who gets you! Wish him th' best, even! So goodnight to you, Elizabeth. I shall leave you with your thoughts of your mystery groom."

"Jack!" Elizabeth cried, but he was already swaggering off to the lower decks, no doubt seeking out a bottle to comfort him. Elizabeth collapse against the coil of rope behind her, feeling more pathetic than ever. Will was being seduced by Dalma, Barbossa couldn't tell her word one about what was awaiting her, and Jack was in too harried a state to even attempt a stolen kiss. Perhaps everything would be better in the morning...

Everything was not better in the morning. Elizabeth awoke in her hammock, both legs dangling off the sides and a crick in her neck. She washed her face quickly, ignoring the leers from the crew, and hurried up to the deck. Jack and Barbossa were both raging at one another on the aft deck, Gibbs and Pintel hovering just out of the pair's reach. Elizabeth began to walk up the steps to the upper deck when, out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Will tying off one of the sails. She cut over to him, smiling to herself, but her face fell as he turned toward her.

"What is that?" she asked, her voice cracking somewhat.

"What?" Will frowned.

"That!" Elizabeth reached up, tugging down his shirt collar to expose a purple bruise on the side of Will's neck. Will jerked away, clapping a hand to the offending mark.

"Uh... Elizabeth, it's not what it looks like!"

"Really? Because it looks like a certain voodoo woman has been sucking on your neck!" Elizabeth shouted. "Well, Will? If that's not it, how did you get that vulgar mark? Hmm?"

"Ah..." Will's mouth worked silently, but he couldn't seem to have any answer but the truth. "I am so very sorry, Elizabeth! The last thing I remember is following Tia Dalma across the deck, and then I woke up this morning in my hammock with this_ thing_. I just- I don't remember-"

"Will!" Elizabeth cried, frustration bringing her to the brink of tears.

"Elizabeth, please!"

"Anyt'ing da matter?" Elizabeth looked to her elbow to find Tia Dalma smirking wickedly back at her. Will reached out for Elizabeth's hand, but she wrenched it away from him.

"Stop it," she whispered to the other woman. "Please, stop it! I'll do anything you want, just leave Will alone!"

"Miz 'Lizabet', ye'll be doin' wot I want whet'er I stop o' not," Tia Dalma hissed, a smile to her lips. "Now, git along wit' ye. I've no need fo' ye... yet."

"Elizabeth, I didn't know-" Will pleaded, but Elizabeth had already turned away. He seemed to still love her, but he was falling in love with Tia Dalma too. Will would have to choose eventually, and Elizabeth was quite sure that it wouldn't be her in the end.

"I am not sailing my ship into the harbor that doesn't exactly smile upon piracy!" Jack yelled as Elizabeth ran up the aft deck steps.

"It's been done b'fore!" Barbossa snapped.

"Aye, with the Black Pearl, not a Chinese pleasure boat!" Jack shouted back.

"Oh, I see. Afraid o' a little trouble, Sparrow?" Barbossa sneered. "When I was captain o' th' Pearl-"

"You were also immortal and lacked the common sense to realize you'd have gained more time and have done more looting had you gone for a little stealth!" Jack spat, waving a hand in front of Barbossa's face. "I, on th' other hand, know that at least seven score of pirate hating soldiers are just itching t' shoot anything that looks the least bit like a buccaneering crew sailing into their port. And, if you haven't noticed, we're not exactly a group o' model citizens out for a tea time sail!"

"I'm not t' be chastised by a drunkard who's too frightened o' a real fight t' face a threat head on!" Barbossa bellowed.

"Afraid of a real fight, then, is it?" Jack snarled, drawing his sword and placing the tip before Barbossa's nose. "Take up your weapon, Barbossa, and I'll gladly put your soul t' rest permanently."

"Cap'n, that isn't wise-" Gibbs began.

"Mind your own battles, Mister Gibbs!" Jack spat.

"Are ye sure ye want t' fight me, Jack? Or are ye just tryin' t' settle some _other_ issues?" demanded Barbossa. "Jack Sparrow wouldn't attack me over such a little thing as a ship that isn't his beloved Black Pearl. Or is it someone-"

"Blast it, I'm using shot," Jack grumbled, sheathing his sword only to pull out his pistol. He pointed it directly at Barbossa's head, cocking it with his thumb as his index finger coiled around the trigger.

"Jack! No!" Elizabeth shrieked, diving at the pirate. She hit him around his middle, shoving him sideways to the deck. The pistol went off, nicking the railing and sending a shower of splinters everywhere. Jack swore heavily, trying to reload his pistol with Elizabeth attempting to drag it away from him. Eventually, Barbossa and Gibbs intervened, the former prying Elizabeth and the pistol away and the latter yanking Jack from the deck.

"Give me something t' kill that man! I'll rip his head off and feed it t' the bloody Kraken! See how he likes it! Give me my blasted pistol, I'll shoot him again! And this time I'll use more than one shot! Bugger! Let me go!" Jack snarled, lashing out at Gibbs and Cotton and Marty, who had come to assist their captain.

"Jack!" Will cried, sprinting up the steps with Tia Dalma not far behind. "What is going on here?"

"Wot is going on is that Barbossa wants me t' sail head on into Port Royal, waving banners with trumpet fanfare to announce that a ship full of thick headed dolts has just decided they all wish to die!" Jack howled.

"Git him below deck," Tia Dalma ordered. "An' we continue wit' his plan. Barbossa, ye contradict Spar-row anot'er time an' ye'll ne'er taste freedom ag'in. Mista' Gibbs, take Jack below den git t' da helm!"

"Elizabeth, are you all right?" Will asked as the young woman shook herself free from Barbossa's grip.

"I am perfectly fine," she spat, turning from Will to wrench the pistol from Barbossa. "What did you say to Jack?"

"Haven't th' faintest," Barbossa said loftily.

"I don't care what grudges may hang between the two of you," Elizabeth hissed, "but let them be until we are out of this mess!"

"Aye, whatever ye say, Miss Swann," Barbossa answered snidely, mockingly tipping his hat to her. "And may I say, I commend ye on what ye've done t' th' man. Ne'er have I seen him in such a state o'er a woman b'fore."

Elizabeth charged past the pirate, striking him on the arm as she started toward the stairs. Will attempted to stop her, worry etched on his face, but Elizabeth would have none of it. She crossed the deck, hurried down to the lower level, and, passing Gibbs as he left, stormed into the larder, slamming the door shut behind her.

Jack sat on the floor of the tiny room, fuming silently at the indignation of being dragged from his own deck. Elizabeth tossed him his pistol, which he caught deftly without meeting her eyes.

"What came over you?" Elizabeth demanded, crossing her arms as she glared down at the pirate. "You've never done that before, and you should never do it again! You are a captain! More so, you are the captain of the Black Pearl. You are Jack Sparrow!"

"I'm allowed a tantrum e'er so often, especially when I am in close quarters with him," Jack grumbled.

"What in the world could Barbossa do that would have caused you to do that?" Elizabeth snapped. "You're the captain here! Barbossa has less freedom than a slave! What could he-"

"Do you really want to know?" Jack spat, pushing himself to his feet to face her. "I'll tell you, love. You were right. I am bloody jealous. I am jealous of Barbossa, I'm jealous of Will, I'm jealous of th' lucky blighter who gets t' marry you. I am jealous! Satisfied?"

"Oh..." Elizabeth simply blinked into Jack's face, somewhat stunned at his confession. "But just now..."

"Ah, that? Well, Barbossa took it into his head that that would be the opportune moment t' tell me he'd seen you naked. From there it escalated into how to run th' ship, but truly it was more about seeing wot's beneath that bodice o' yours," Jack said, his signature lopsided smile coming back.

"Wha- how dare you-"

"Ah, ease up, love," Jack said. "I'm sure he didn't see too much. An' besides, he's never got ye drunk before, so I'm one up on him."

"You, Jack Sparrow, have never gotten me drunk," Elizabeth replied coldly.

"Perhaps you don't recall said incident because you were too drunk t' remember it," Jack said smugly.

"Or perhaps because I have never been inebriated," Elizabeth snapped.

"Well, then, now is as good a time as any t' add that notch t' your belt," Jack smirked. He reached over to the nearest shelf, swiping a bottle of rum from the supply, all the while slipping an arm around Elizabeth's waist.

"You recover quickly from your tantrums," Elizabeth pointed out, pushing Jack's hand away with a scowl.

"Well, I just realized that I've got you alone in a tight space with plenty of rum," Jack murmured, reaching behind her to flick a latch into place, "and look! The door's gone and locked itself. Fancy that."

"Jack, no games," sighed Elizabeth.

"I'm not playing, love," Jack smiled, gazing at her from half-lidded eyes. "Now, where were we..."

"Goodbye, Jack," Elizabeth muttered tersely, reaching to unlock the door. Jack caught her wrist, spinning her back to face him.

"Wot a sour mood you're in," Jack observed. "It has nothing to do with a certain blacksmith and his Caribbean lover, does it?"

"Leave me alone, Jack!" spat Elizabeth, wrenching her arm from his grip.

"Sounds like you're the one who's jealous, love," the pirate said softly.

"I am _not_ jealous!" snapped Elizabeth, outraged. "If anyone is jealous, it's Dalma! Jealous of me and Will! Sh- she couldn't stand it! So she's stealing him from me! We- we were getting married! We were in love! I should have been Mrs. Elizabeth Turner by now! It- it's not f- fair!"

Sobs rose up Elizabeth's throat and she collapsed against the door, her anger and bitterness dissolving into a wave of absolute sorrow. Jack stood by as tears rolled down her cheeks, finally stashing the rum back on the shelf with a sigh. He took Elizabeth's face in his hands, wiping away her tears with his thumbs.

"Hush now, love. You can't do anything about wot's happening," he said quietly, her sobs softening into hiccups. "Tia Dalma almost always gets wot she wants. You and Will have no control over it."

"B- but we were so happy b- before all of this," Elizabeth whispered, her shoulders shaking as her tears died away.

"I know you were. Which made it right hard t' have my way with you when you were so bloody pleased with the eunuch you'd landed," Jack smirked. Elizabeth gave a weak laugh, putting a hand to Jack's cheek.

"Pirate," she sniffled.

"I know I am, love. The question is, just how pirate are you?" Jack inquired with a tilt of his head.

Elizabeth smiled, her eyes growing heavy from the late night prior and her tears. Jack brushed a finger along her jaw line and she sighed despite herself. She looked up to Jack, who was close enough for her to feel his breath on her cheek. She stared into his liquid eyes, dark and warm, and she felt her legs grow weak. Jack moved closer, his lips parting slightly and a hand reaching up to tangle in her hair. Elizabeth closed her eyes as the pirate pushed her back against the door, letting her troubles disappear as she kissed, once more, the infamous Captain Jack Sparrow.


	12. Chapter 12

**Before I leave you to your reading, which I'm sure is more interesting than this, I must thank you, ever so deeply, for all of your support and positive reviews. With the school season begining, the updates will be appearing slower thyan usual, but nonetheless, they will continue. Thank you, and enjoy!**

"Elizabeth," Jack murmured, pulling his lips away from hers briefly before returning.

"Jack," Elizabeth breathed. Something in the back of her mind clicked on, and Elizabeth blinked her eyes open. Jack, kissing, Jack, not Will, Jack... "Jack, wait," Elizabeth said, something cold and uncomfortable settling in the pit of her stomach.

"No, no wait-y," Jack whispered, one hand cradling the back of her neck as the other arm looped around her waist.

"Jack!" Elizabeth pushed him away, but his hold on her never wavered. "I can't- you shouldn't- you're taking advantage of me!"

"Wot's your point?" Jack frowned.

"I- I don't feel that away about you," Elizabeth stammered, trying to conjure up the emotions she usually felt for Will, but coming up short.

"Really? Because I felt something about you," Jack smiled, leaning close again. "I think it was your tongue..."

"Jack!"

"Elizabeth!" Jack moaned, placing his lips over hers once more-

"Cap'n? Cap'n, are ye all right?" a voice inquired from the other side of the door.

"Quite well, thank you, Marty," Jack called out, Elizabeth stiffening in his grasp. "Ah... no, actually, I am feeling quite ill. Something terrible. Perhaps scurvy. Don't want you t' catch it, mate, so I'll just stay comfy cozy in here, aye?"

"I don't think ye can catch scurvy, Cap'n," Marty replied, Elizabeth attempting to squirm out of Jack's arms.

"Really? Then it must be something worse. Quite terrible. Don't send a doctor, a good hour in this larder should fix me right up. And don't mind any peculiar noises, or thumps... in fact, just keep the crew away for the rest o' the day, eh?"

"Oh, that is it!" Elizabeth hissed. She reached behind her, flipping the latch up and grasping the handle of the door.

"Well, if that's yer orders, Cap'n," Marty said, unconvinced.

"That's right, captain's orders! Now scurry along, mate. I have some healing I need t' do." Jack lunged for Elizabeth's lips, smiling wickedly to himself, and Elizabeth twisted the door knob. The pair of them fell out of the larder, landing atop the poor midget outside.

Swearing vividly, Elizabeth untangled herself from the pile of limbs and shook out her skirts. She glared down at the pirate, who was staring balefully up at her from the floor, Marty doing his best to crawl away from the fray.

"I did not go in there to be seduced, Captain Sparrow," she snapped.

"Then why in th' blazes did you go in?" Jack frowned.

"To return your pistol and to make sure you were all right!"

"Well, you were in the middle of making me all right when we were so rudely interrupted." Jack shot a glare at the midget, who began to retreat. "Get your carcass out o' here before I see fit t' keelhaul you. Wot's in your head, t' go about bothering a man in his larder, eh? The nerve o' some people. Knocking on doors, inquiring if their captain is well. Wot kind of crew is this?"

"You insensitive idiot!" Elizabeth shouted, kicking Jack in the ribs. "I'm in love with Will! I don't want, nor care for, your affections!"

"Until, of course, you have an emotional fit, in which you welcome my smooth words and able hands," Jack replied. "Oh, don't argue there, love. You weren't exactly protesting that initial moment in there."

"We had no moment," Elizabeth scowled.

"Tell me, love," Jack said, pushing himself into a sitting position with his legs crossed. "Why is it that you are truly quite willing t' place yourself into compromising situations until the last possible second? Guilty conscience? Or are you using a poor pirate as revenge against Will?"

"You, sir, are no poor pirate," Elizabeth scowled. "And I would never want revenge against Will!"

"Given past circumstances, love," Jack said, stroking his chin methodically, "it appears to me that you are th' one taking advantage of me."

"Of you? You? I am not taking advantage of you!" Elizabeth sneered.

"Come now! No woman comes to a pirate, especially said infamous captain of th' dreaded Black Pearl, seeking comfort and a cup o' tea, Miss Elizabeth. They're looking for something of a more... physical nature. And there was a time when you were entirely resistant to my amorous advances, not allowing yourself to enter any sort of situation that could end involving a pirate and a lack of clothing. Now, however, you're not. Just now, you were right willing up until the last possible second to be in a pirate's arms, at which point you panicked and put the blame on the rogue for, as you put it, 'seducing' you."

"You are seducing me!" cried Elizabeth.

"You're the bloody one who's seeking me out! You let me flirt and joke and be quite charming, and then you cut me off just before I get wot I want. Seems t' me, love, you're using me as your own personal way of punishing dear William for leaving you," Jack accused. "And, as you cannot hurt Will the way he is hurting you, you're taking your aggressions out on me."

"That is preposterous!" objected Elizabeth. "I am not so loathsome as to show affections to a man for the only purpose of harming him!"

"Do you have feelings for me?"

"I- what? No! No, of course not!"

"Then you are toying with me, Miss Elizabeth," Jack frowned. "And I really don't feel like playing those games. I ask you to either resist me properly, or let me have my way with you. Revenge is not an excuse to fiddle with a man's heart. Savvy?"

"If I am leading you to false conclusions, Captain Sparrow, then perhaps it is better if I have no contact with you at all," Elizabeth glared.

"Well... yes, that would work quite well."

"Fine! Good day to you, Captain!" Elizabeth aimed another kick at Jack's leg before charging out of the lower deck, screaming silently to herself._ I don't have feelings for him. Those past musings were simply guilt from being the cause of his death. I'm not using him for revenge. I'm not taking advantage of him. I- I'm not-_

"Watch it-"

Lost in her own thoughts, Elizabeth slammed into the calling person, knocking herself and the man to the main deck. Furious, Elizabeth raised her hand to stike the offender, but he caught her wrist, glaring.

"When a man yells fer ye t' watch out, 'tis best t' heed his warnin'," Barbossa growled, getting to his feet while pulling her up, too.

"Not the time," Elizabeth warned, turning to seek out a very dark corner in which to sulk.

"Take it things are not goin' well with th' captain? Hmm?"

Elizabeth spun back to the pirate and slapped him, the impact sharp in the salt air. Barbossa gaped at her, looking absolutely stunned at her actions, but his reaction quickly turned to rage. Elizabeth began to consider if her actions had been too rash when Barbossa grabbed her upper arm, holding her with bruising pressure, and he began to drag her across the deck and past the working men.

"Wait! I- I didn't mean to-" Elizabeth stammered, but Barbossa didn't seem to hear the protests. Cotton and Gibbs both exchanged glances as Barbossa pulled her past, but neither seemed willing to intervene with the predicament.

Barbossa finally shoved Elizabeth against the foremast, her back to the rest of the ship, and he grabbed her chin, holding her head steady. Elizabeth had no choice but to meet the pirate's gaze, which she did with much reluctance.

"Wot in th' bloody blazes in wrong with ye?" Barbossa hissed, baring his yellowed teeth in a snarl.

"What's wrong with me? How about what's wrong with you! You drove Jack into such a state that he-" Elizabeth countered.

"Oh, so it is about Jack," Barbossa frowned. "Goodness, that's all yer thoughts are about these days. Him or rescuin' Master Turner. Just pick a fool t' call yer own an' be done with it."

"It's not about Jack. It's about me," Elizabeth said. "I can't deal with any of this anymore. I can't stand to watch Tia Dalma steal Will from me, and I can't handle being around Jack much longer."

"So ye slap me for yer troubles with yer men," Barbossa scowled.

"No, I slapped you for being an heartless man who drives everyone else mad simply because he can't breathe without Tia Dalma's permission," Elizabeth snapped. "My troubles, as you put it, are what lead me to this... I can't come back on this ship once we reach Port Royal."

"Ye're takin' my advice?" Barbossa asked, somewhat skeptical of her actions.

"Not simply because it was your advice," Elizabeth scowled. "Whoever Dalma has planned for me to wed would be nothing compared to being on this ship with Will and Jack any longer than I must. I can't stand watching Will slip away like he is, and Jack..."

Barbossa's gaze never wavered as Elizabeth fell silent, her own eyes settling fixedly on an imaginary speck over his shoulder. The pirate frowned, moving his jaw back and forth as he thought. Finally, he said softly, "That's not why ye should be leavin', Miss Swann."

"Look, the point is I'm going! According to you, it will save me from Tia Dalma's wicked plot. It shouldn't matter what reasons I have," Elizabeth spat.

"It does matter, pretty. It matters a lot," Barbossa told her. "I may be a heartless ol' sod, but I care about wot happens t' ye. Not t' Jack or Will, mind ye, but ye're less irritating than th' rest o' 'em."

"You sure know how to flatter a girl," Elizabeth responded dryly.

"If ye leave for th' wrong reasons, ye'll ne'er be happy," Barbossa warned.

"Are you done yet?" Elizabeth scowled.

"Fine. I'll not waste me words on an ungrateful whelp such as yerself," he glowered.

"Thank you," Elizabeth said briskly, but her words lost their harshness as she returned her gaze to the pirate. "Truly. Thank you. And I'm sorry I slapped you. You caught me at an awful time."

"Apology accepted," Barbossa grumbled. "Jus' don' tell a soul ye're leavin'. It'll be on my head if Tia Dalma finds out, and I can't take much more from that woman."

The rest of the journey to Port Royal were some of the loneliest days Elizabeth had ever suffered through. Even for all the people on the ship, she couldn't find a single thing to say to one of them. Jack, seemingly without the temptation of Elizabeth, went back to his proper self, if slightly more drunk than usual. Will, however, was falling into a worse state. His dazed moments outnumbered his lucid ones, and he moved as if he were sleepwalking, barely comprehending what was asked of him. Elizabeth couldn't stand to watch him act in such a manner, so she often turned in the other direction to avoid Will completely. None of the crew had much to say to her either; the natives barely spoke English, and the original pirate crew had never been too chatty with her, with the exception of Gibbs. The only one who really spoke to her was Barbossa, but even his words weren't warm. He didn't think much of her leaving on behalf of Jack and Will, and he didn't want to be tied to her departure when the time came.

After nine more days at sea, the island Port Royal resided on came into view, and Jack called a meeting to discuss how they would be going about his plan. Elizabeth grudgingly followed Cotton, his parrot, and Marty to the captain's cabin, which had long been stolen by Tia Dalma. It seemed they were the last to arrive, with Dalma, Barbossa, Will, Gibbs, Pintel, and Ragetti already seated at the table. Jack was pacing the room, shooting the three of them a disapproving look, and waited to speak until they had taken their seats.

"We're anchoring th' Bonny Lass quarter o' a league from the harbor itself, against the shoreline, of course. If someone comes round and looks suspiciously at it, we'll have the crew run up some sort o' flag t' placate them. Once anchored, we shall take a longboat as far as we can get b'fore actually reaching the harbor. In 'we', I mean myself, Mister Barbossa, Mister Turner, Mister Gibbs, Cotton, Marty... and Pintel. And Ragetti. Yes, that's it. Aye?"

"Decent enough," Gibbs nodded.

"Is everyone fine with this plan, so far? No complaints? No objections? Nothing t' add?" Jack inquired, waving his hands about while his gaze drifted over to where Elizabeth sat. "Everyone's in accord?"

"Aye, man, get on with it!" Barbossa snarled.

"Very well," Jack said, somewhat disappointed. "From there, we'll dock on a beach, leaving Cotton, Marty, Pintel, and Ragetti to watch the boat. The rest of us will then..."

Elizabeth had briefly wondered if Jack knew of her plan and he was wondering why she didn't want to get off the ship, but she quickly dispersed the idea. Jack merely wanted to get a rise out of her, to have her protest the unfairness or beg to come along. However, if she joined them, it would quite difficult to explain why she couldn't return with them. It would be easier to slip away from Tia Dalma, and she would be much easier to beat if Elizabeth's departing came to exchanging blows.

Elizabeth half listened to the rest of the plan, casting sideways glances over at Will. He was intent on Jack's speech, nodding his head at certain parts or adding his opinions. He was having a sane moment, it seemed, probably thanks to Tia Dalma relaxing the hex only so their mission would be successful.

Watching him, something in Elizabeth's chest tightened, and she tore her gaze away to plaster it to the tabletop. She still loved Will. Yet she was going to give up and leave him to Tia Dalma. She felt low; how could she live with herself if there was the slightest chance Will might still love her? Elizabeth chanced a glance back up and saw Tia Dalma had been watching her, an almost feline smile to her lips. The voodoo woman reached a hand over and stroked Will's own, her eyes daring Elizabeth to do anything. Elizabeth forced her gaze back to the table, knowing well enough she was better suited not to worry so much; it was truly useless.

"Gibbs, get us close t' shore," Jack ordered, finishing his speech with a flourish of one hand. "Th' rest of you, get pistols, shot, and some rum, eh? Move!"

Elizabeth began to rise in order to make herself scarce, but Jack had come around the table and was resting a heavy hand on her shoulder, a signal to stay put. Jack waved everyone, even Tia Dalma, out of the cabin, and didn't move until the door closed. He then walked to the side of Elizabeth's chair, hopping up onto the table so he could comfortably look down at her. Jack shot her a winning grin, at which Elizabeth returned with stony silence.

"Elizabeth. Love! How have you been?" he began. "Haven't spoken to you in a long while. Nine days, really. Nine days. Nine... yes, well, Port Royal! Your home sweet bonny home! William's home, too. Will, that bloke you were going to marry, but is now the lackey of Dalma. Blacksmith. Brown hair. Not all there in th' head. Or th' pants, for that matter-"

"Is there something you wanted to say, Jack?" Elizabeth asked, looking up at the pirate. Her heart panged at the roguish, if somewhat drunken, smile Jack gave her, and she quickly averted her eyes.

"I may have been too harsh on you, back there, after the whole larder incident," Jack said. "I'm honestly all for revenge. And using people... it's wot I do best! Right after stealing. And drinking. And... well, you know... quite good at crochet, too..."

"Jack, what you said was all true," Elizabeth said.

"It was?" frowned Jack.

"Yes. I shouldn't have been putting myself into positions that jeopardize my standing with you, and especially not to let out my aggressions toward Will and that- and Dalma. I am very sorry for being so very confrontational. Now, you'd better hurry and get your boat ready. You have a job to do."

Elizabeth got to her feet to leave, but Jack caught her arm, holding her in front of him. He looked up at the ceiling, frowning somewhat, then looked back at her.

"Am I missing something here?" he asked cautiously. "Because last I recall, you weren't exactly pleased with me and you kicked me. Hard. And unless Tia Dalma has corrupted you too, which I pray she hasn't, you should be right upset at me coming here and bothering you. And not including you in my plans! Ha! I left you out, I did!"

"And it makes sense," Elizabeth shrugged. "I am, after all, the Governor's daughter. If I was seen, you'd lose the element of surprise."

"Oh." Jack's face fell, and he seemed very disappointed at her lack of reaction. "Well, I- you- I was- you are- I'm- have I ever told you that you have pretty eyes?"

"Yes, you have," Elizabeth smiled, refusing to give into his seductions.

"I have, have I?" Jack simply stared at her for a moment, dumbstruck, until he regained his cocky smile. He released her arm, only to run a finger all the way down its length, brushing her hand lightly before going back up.

"Elizabeth, I've decided I quite like it when you fiddle with my heart," he told her, gazing at her from heavy lidded eyes. "Makes life more exciting. Dramatic. So much better than those women who are always sincere. Perhaps you could trouble yourself t' lead a man on, right now. Right here. I'm sure I would happily oblige you in your taking advantage of a poor pirate. Wot say you to that?"

"I say," Elizabeth murmured, leaning toward the pirate, who reached out to pull her closer, "that you really had better get in that boat and sail to Port Royal, because you need Jones' heart to bring back the Pearl. That's what you want, isn't it, Jack? The Black Pearl?"

The corner of Jack's mouth twitched, disappointment etched on his face and in his eyes. "It's only a ship," he said gruffly, almost pleading with her now.

"But it's your ship," Elizabeth told him. She reached a hand out to pat his knee comfortingly, and the man almost jumped out of his skin. "Now, go be a pirate and steal back Jones' heart."

"Lizzie, love!" Jack groaned, rolling his head back in frustration. "Please-"

"We're ready t' head out, Cap- oh." Elizabeth and Jack looked over to see Gibbs in the doorway, somewhat stunned as he watched Elizabeth step back from Jack's touch.

"Yes, thank you, Mister Gibbs," Jack grumbled, hopping from his seat on the table. Jack shot Elizabeth a pleading glance, but she merely returned a polite smile. Jack groaned again, setting his hat right atop his head, before following Gibbs out with a brusque air about him. Gibbs gave Elizabeth a puzzled look, but closed the door nonetheless, leaving Elizabeth to the peculiar feeling that, perhaps, she herself was wishing she could toy with Jack's heart a bit more.

An hour after the longboat headed out, Elizabeth decided it would be her best chance to depart. She was still in the cabin, so she truly should have no troubles in leaving. Just slip off the aft deck, hurry down the stairs, and steal a boat. Simple. Elizabeth crossed the room, opened the door, and jumped back with a yelp.

Tia Dalma stood just outside the cabin, her arms crossed and a glare in her eyes. She pushed Elizabeth farther into the room, charging in herself. Dalma slammed the door shut and wheeled upon Elizabeth, who had recovered her composure somewhat from the shock.

"Where d' ye t'ink ye're goin'? Hmm?" Dalma snapped. "Oh, don' play dumb! Tia Dalma know wot ye're doin'. Ye runnin' away. Can' take it no more so ye're goin' home. Well, I am not lettin' ye. Ye've a price t' pay fo' me services, an' ye'll pay it!"

"Do you really think you can stop me?" Elizabeth scowled. "You have Will. You have Barbossa at your disposal. You will shortly have the beating heart of Davy Jones. I am of little use to you!"

"Ye're worth too much t' let ye go, else I would," Dalma sneered, hands shifting to her hips. "Ye cry, ye whine, ye can't hold on t' yer men! Weak woman!"

"Why do you hate me so much? I've done nothing to you!" Elizabeth cried.

"Done not'ing? Not'ing? Ye stupid woman! Ye done enough! Ye been taken de men I want. William loves ye, and Jack-"

"What about Jack?" frowned Elizabeth, backing away.

"Ye don' know?" Dalma gave a cackle, looking Elizabeth up and down with a leer to her eyes. "Ye don' know how Jack came t' me, all d'oes years ago, t' raise da Pearl from da deep? Oh, how handsome! How nice! I beg him t' stay wit' me, I ask right nicely, an' he says no t' me. Not in his destiny. An' den he comes back wit' William, cursed by Davy Jones, an' I see it. I t'ink, Jack Sparrow in love wit' a woman! Who dis woman? Prettier dan Dalma? Smarter? Den I see ye. How d' ye, skinny little woman, git Jack Spar-row? An' William, I later see. I could nae get either o' dem, an' ye get both! So I look at ye an' t'ink, if she take all dat I want, why not keep her from enjoyin' it?"

"So it's my fault you can't win over Jack and Will?" snapped Elizabeth, all the while repeating in her head, _Jack loves me? Jack loves _me

"Ye won o'er Barbossa, too," Dalma spat. "He not love ye, but he care fo' ye. Ye get dem all! An' who does Tia Dalma get? No one!"

"You can always return to your sweet Davy Jones," Elizabeth hissed maliciously. "I'm sure he'd be happy to take you back."

Tia Dalma's mouth snapped shut, a fire blazing in her eyes. "Ye best be careful, Miz 'Lizabet'," she replied coldly, her fists clenching at her sides. "O' dat jus' might happe-"

"Tia Dalma!" A native bounded in, eyes wild as he fell to Dalma's feet. He began to jabber on rapidly, speaking in a tongue Elizabeth couldn't comprehend. The hatred on Dalma's face turned to fear as she rushed back out onto the deck, the native right on her heels. Elizabeth hiked up her skirts in one hand, intent on escaping while she had the chance, and raced out of the cabin, only to stop just outside the door.

The ship had been taken. The natives hadn't even stirred to report to Tia Dalma, too perplexed at what was happening. Another ship, twice as large and flying the Union Jack, rested along the starboard side, gangplanks leading over to the deck of the Bonny Lass. Red coated soldiers had easily rounded up what was left of the crew, and the British ship's captain was slowly making his way up to the aft deck to meet Dalma and Elizabeth.

"Who da Devil be ye?" Tia Dalma spat, her lip curling in contempt.

"Such tones will not be tolerated, madam," the man replied, looking her over with disdain. "My name is Captain Norrington of the Royal Navy, and you-" he glanced past Dalma's shoulder, smiling slightly, to see Elizabeth, "are a sight for sore eyes, Miss Swann. Welcome home."


	13. Chapter 13

**Could it be? Is it- yes, it is! An update! I apologize tenfold for no new updates, loves, but school does come first. Here is the latest installment of this adventure, and I promise more to come! Enjoy!**

"Norrington!" Elizabeth gaped, stepping back in surprise. "You- you're-"

"Did you worry for my safety, Miss Swann?" the former Commodore smiled, benign in his speech. "I'm flattered."

"You took Jones' heart, didn't you?" Elizabeth said, even though, in the back of her mind, she knew of the answer.

"Of course," Norrington nodded, sidestepping the enraged Tia Dalma to come toward Elizabeth, who found herself edging away. "I had to redeem myself in the eyes of our country. It was the only way."

"You took the letters of mark, too, didn't you?" Elizabeth frowned.

"I had to," the man shrugged.

"Those were meant for Jack."

At the mention of the pirate, Norrington stiffened, his chin lifting a little higher. He glanced around the aft deck of the Bonny Lass, his gaze lingering on the tattooed and wild Tia Dalma and upon the muttering native crew.

"Does this ship have papers?" he asked coldly, directing the question to Elizabeth.

"Aye, it does! Now git off me ship!" Tia Dalma hissed.

"Where is your captain?" Norrington continued, blatantly ignoring the voodoo woman.

"He- she's right there," Elizabeth stammered, nodding toward Dalma. "Captain Dalma of the Bonny Lass."

"Wot da-" Dalma clamped her mouth shut as Elizabeth shot her a look. "Ah... dat be me. Captain Dalma! Ye want t' join crew? Big strong man... be very good wit' me."

"A woman?" Norrington frowned.

"She's very... capable," Elizabeth nodded.

"Miss Swann, why are you on this ship?" Norrington began to walk toward her again, and Elizabeth jumped back, jarring herself against the wood of the captain's cabin.

"That is none of your concern, Captain," she said stoutly, her fingers twisting together as Norrington continued his pace at her.

"I believe it is," he murmured. "You are still a fugitive in Port Royal, if you did not recall, and I am under the obligation to take you for questioning. However, I am more curious about why you are on this ship, crewed by Caribbean peoples and lacking in Misters Turner and Sparrow. Any reason for their absences?"

"I do realize I am still a fugitive, James," Elizabeth scowled, watching as the man flinched at his name. She briefly wondered how he knew Jack was alive, but then she recalled the man had never known Jack had died in the first place. "And I would not be returning here unless I was forced to."

"And by 'forced to', you mean to say..."

"The presences of Misters Turner and Sparrow were requested elsewhere."

"Ah. What a pity."

The smug expression on Norrington's face caused Elizabeth to seethe; he thought Jack and Will had abandoned her! The captain pushed back any snide remarks he could throw out, and politely bowed to Elizabeth.

"Miss Swann, I am required by British law to take you into my custody," he said, looking back up at his ex-fiancée, eyeing her slightly.

"Ye can' take her! She mine! Git off me ship, ye beast!" Tia Dalma screamed, charging over to Norrington with a fist raised. Elizabeth snatched the voodoo woman back, pinning her arms to her sides.

"Do you want to be arrested, too?" she hissed into Dalma's ear, causing the other woman to calm into an angry sulk.

"Thank you, Miss Swann, but I do not need you to protect me," Norrington frowned, glancing over Dalma.

"Yes, but I was simply making your job easier by causing you one less detainment," Elizabeth smiled, doing her utmost to keep the sarcasm out of her voice. "Now, Captain, shall we?"

Norrington blinked in surprise, quickly recovering and offering his arm in a gentlemanly fashion. Elizabeth let Dalma go, shooting the other woman a warning glare, and draped her own arm around Norrington's. The pair started down the aft steps, the soldiers allowing the natives to go free. Norrington led Elizabeth across the deck to a gangplank, pressing into the small of her back to urge her forward. Elizabeth was beginning to be swamped with anxiety, something similar to what she felt when she had been forced to walk the plank. In a way, she was truly walking to her death- or at least her permanent prison cell.

Once on the other ship, Elizabeth looked back over at the Bonny Lass. The natives were all clustered at the aft deck, frightened from their ordeal, and Tia Dalma was leaning against the railing, furious. Elizabeth took some pleasure at causing Dalma's plans to be tampered with, but her emotions quickly changed as Norrington appeared at her elbow, keeping a strong grip on her arm. The man looked down at her, smiling slightly, and her stomach turned. She was going to be executed.

Port Royal certainly looked different from a hangman's perspective. Elizabeth had spent half her life in this harbor, but for the first time she noticed every naval ship that passed and every clustering of soldiers on the docks. When their vessel passed the grim skeletons of criminals and the rough sign of "Pirates, ye be warned!", her stomach actually clenched. Elizabeth's knuckles went white on the railing, her eyes growing wider with every wave the ship crested.

"Are you ill, Miss Swann?" Elizabeth glanced over at Norrington, who's empathy was being slowly drowned by his spite for what had happened between them. "I would imagine that, enjoying the company of pirates so very much, you would be quite accustomed to sea sickness by now."

"When one is about to die, Captain, one experiences some apprehension," Elizabeth said coldly, turning her gaze back out over the water.

"You're the one who came back here. You came willingly with me when I took your little ship," Norrington mused. "Why is that?"

"I have nothing to lose, that is all," she snapped.

"Oh, is that it?" Norrington leaned over Elizabeth's shoulder, speaking softly into her ear as the crew began to tie off the ship and set down the gangplank. "Or is it that you are our diversion, and you're supposed to come with us..."

Elizabeth frowned, but a sudden chill rippled down her back. Norrington thought Jack and Will were in Port Royal; he was catching on to them! Her heart began to drum in her chest, and Elizabeth's mind was filled with images of Will and Jack at the gallows. Fear for herself dissipated to be replaced by her anxiety for the pair.

"Are they here, Miss Swann?" Norrington questioned, one hand brushing her arm as he reached past her to brace against the railing. The captain's sleeve slipped across her belt, and Elizabeth felt something swing at the motion. She slipped her fingertips down, touching dagger hilt, money pouch, compass-

"Captain Norrington," Elizabeth said coldly, holding in her triumph as a plan quickly developed in her mind's eye. "I told you that Misters Sparrow and Turner are not here. They are occupied elsewhere."

"Prove it," Norrington hissed smugly.

Elizabeth turned around to face Norrington, leaning forward to show off what cleavage her dress allowed, and she pulled Jack's compass from her belt. She'd forgotten about it since the Kraken, choosing not to ponder over who she truly wanted. She raised the artifact up under the captain's nose, and he scowled.

"Remember this?" she smirked. "Jack wouldn't part with it. Not for all the treasure in the world. Even when he had me use it, he was always there to snatch it back. Would he really go anywhere, even Port Royal, without it?"

Norrington's smug expression fell, brows knitting. "Are you insinuating that you... stole this?" he frowned. "From Jack Sparrow?"

"Pirate," smirked Elizabeth, arching an eyebrow at the stunned captain.

"And what, as you have now been arrested and await the hangman's noose, do you plan to do with it?" Norrington demanded.

Elizabeth's heartbeat stumbled. What was she getting herself into? She'd just proclaimed she had stolen the compass, and with Norrington's regained power, he wouldn't hesitate to bring her in on charges of piracy as well. She paused before responding, as surely and as level as possible.

"I had been planning on delivering it to Lord Beckett in exchange for a pardon. While he now has Jones' heart, this is still a very valuable artifact."

"And you want me to take you there, I'm sure," Norrington sneered.

"I am in your custody, after all, James," Elizabeth murmured, let her eyes glance his blue uniform up and down. "I am at... your disposal."

A muscle in Norrington's cheek twitched. He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. Elizabeth leaned in more, lips parted as Norrington's jaw went slack. He started, pulling his composure together as he stepped back. He gave a slight cough, extended his arm, and jerked his head toward the gangplank. Elizabeth smiled, inwardly smug, and walked with him down to the docks.

Norrington escorted Elizabeth through the streets of her home, accompanied by a dozen soldiers. Elizabeth refused to meet any gazes as she passed; she was still the governor's daughter, not a common criminal. She would face what would come with the grace and poise that was expected of her.

The squadron of soldiers brought her and Norrington to the townhouse currently being used by Lord Cutler Beckett, an extravagant home with a view of the harbor and a garden. Norrington nodded to two of his soldiers, ordering the rest to wait. He then pushed Elizabeth up the steps to the front door, his selected guards a pace behind him. He rapped upon the whitewashed door, to have it opened by a heavy-lidded butler.

"Captain James Norrington to see Lord Cutler Beckett. Urgent, cannot wait one moment longer. He is in his study, I presume?" Elizabeth heard Norrington snap, hardly waiting for a reaction from the butler as he shoved her into the front hall.

"Lord Beckett is not to be disturbed-" the man wheezed, but Norrington would have none of it.

"Keep walking," he hissed to Elizabeth, prodding her toward the grand staircase that dominated the front entrance. Elizabeth had no choice but to pad up the marble steps, skirts hiked around her shins as Norrington and his soldiers ignored the protests of the butler.

"You two, keep that buffoon from barging in," Norrington spat as they reached the first landing. The guards fell behind, and Elizabeth was steered down the corridor to the grand oak door at the end.

_What am I doing? _Elizabeth thought in a panic. _I am doomed. Beckett will take the compass and send me to the gallows. The most I can do is stall for time. Perhaps Jack and Will have already found the heart. Or my distracting Beckett will give them more of a chance..._

"After you, Miss Swann," said Norrington coolly, opening the door to the study before she reached it. Elizabeth bobbed her head in reply, squared her shoulders, and marched in.

The room was just as she recalled it, though it was flooded with brilliant sunlight as opposed to the glow of the moon. Lord Beckett was seated at his desk at the other end of the study, his hands clasped calmly before him. His manservant and spy, Mercer, stood near the elaborate world map that was opposite the windows. Both men were facing the fireplace, which was not eight paces from where Elizabeth and Norrington now stood. Leaning against the mantel, stroking his pistol lovingly with his begrimed fingers, was Jack Sparrow, with Will standing to his right.

"Oh, goody, more people," Jack said, flashing gold teeth as he bared a grin. "I do love a party, don't you, Beckett?"


	14. Chapter 14

"What the bloody hell is going on here?" Norrington demanded, looking from Beckett to Jack and back to Beckett. Elizabeth noticed that, in Mercer's hands, a pistol was pointed at Jack, whose weapon in turn was leisurely directed at Beckett.

"Captain Norrington," Beckett said coldly, "I do not recall requesting your presence."

"Oh! Captain, is it?" Jack inquired. "Ah, so I have you t' thank for stealing my leverage and robbing my lovely jar of dirt."

"I was bringing you Miss Swann, who told me that Sparrow and Turner were not present in Port Royal," Norrington snarled, grabbed Elizabeth's arm and yanking her to his side.

"I said they were requested elsewhere, I never specified where," Elizabeth retorted.

"You foul-"

"Unhand her!" Will spat, striding forward.

"Stay where you are, boy," Jack ordered.

Will reluctantly returned to his place beside the pirate, but his eyes locked with Elizabeth's across the room. Elizabeth's heart tore; it took all that was in her to remind herself that Will was still under Tia Dalma's spell, and his sudden interest in her would dissipate once he was back in her sight.

"Let Miss Swann go, Captain," Beckett ordered. Norrington begrudgingly loosed his grip, glaring at her.

"Now, where were we?" Beckett said, directing his attention again to Jack. "Ah, yes, your surrender."

"More like my pardon," Jack interjected, raising a finger.

"Yes, I wasn't following your offer before we were so rudely interrupted, but from what I can recall it wasn't very appealing for me," frowned Beckett.

"It's simple enough, mate," Jack shrugged, waving his free hand about. "You let myself and Mister Turner- and now Miss Swann- go back t' our little boat, and you meet us on th' ocean in three days time. You have ol' Davy Jones bring my Pearl back up from th' depths, I become a privateer in your service, and we all go home bonny good and wotsa. Savvy?"

"Well, no, as I see no incentive for me to not shoot you now and be done with it," Beckett pointed out, glancing to Mercer's drawn pistol and back to Jack.

"Hear me out, mate," Jack cautioned. "Wot would you say if there was incentive in it for you. A very powerful incentive, eh?"

Beckett narrowed his eyes at the pirate; Elizabeth watched as the man's knuckles went white from clenching his hands together.

"And what would be worthwhile enough for me to follow this mad scheme of yours?" he asked tersely.

"How old are you? Thirty five? Forty? Getting up in years, I imagine," Jack mused aloud. "Must be right unpleasant."

"What is your point, Mister Sparrow?" Beckett snapped.

"Wot would you say if I could make you immortal?" Jack smiled. "Aye, mate, to live forever."

"I'd say you've been suffering from heat stroke and that I should have you killed by now," Beckett scowled.

"You could rule the seas forever, mate," Jack continued, unfazed by Mercer's cocking of the pistol. "The East India Company would be the most powerful force the world has ever seen. You have Jones' heart; you could control him for the rest o' eternity. Think of it. Lord- no, King- Beckett, the Immortal. How's that sound?"

"Like a fairy tale. Why the Devil do you think I would believe such nonsense?" demanded Beckett, surging to his feet.

"Because you want power," Jack said quietly, taking a step forward.

"Don't move!" Mercer snarled, aiming the pistol at the pirate's head.

"You lust after it," Jack murmured, continuing toward Beckett. "You desire it."

"Not one more step!" Mercer yelled.

"Jack, don't-" Will warned from his place at the mantel.

"You don't want to die, do you?" Jack asked softly, almost too quiet for Elizabeth to hear at the other end of the room. "Death is a lose of power. Death is weakness. You want power, Beckett. You want immortality."

Jack was now standing on the other side of the desk from Beckett, pistol still pointed at the man's chest. A tremor had come over Beckett; he was quivering, his hands bracing himself against the desktop. Elizabeth held her breath, waiting to hear a pistol fire, for the tension to be cut, for-

"You can make me immortal?" Beckett asked, his voice cracking in the process.

"I know how you can live forever, mate," Jack said with a smile, "if you do as I ask."

"Uncock your pistol, and I shall order Mister Mercer to do the same," said Beckett. Jack raised his pistol, uncocked it, and tucked it in his belt. A second click! followed as Mercer grudgingly followed suit.

"You're t' meet us t' th' east o' the Isla Verde in three days time," Jack said smoothly. "Bring the heart, you'll need it t' summon Jones. After I get the Pearl, you get your immortality."

"Simple as that?" frowned Beckett, questionable.

"In one way or another, aye," Jack smiled.

"Wait, you're letting them go?" Norrington bellowed, shoving Elizabeth aside to advance on Beckett and Jack. "Him? Jack Sparrow? You can't believe him!"

"Captain Norrington, I didn't ask for your opinion," spat Beckett.

"He's a pirate!" Norrington howled.

"And if he betrays me in any way, I will have this Davy Jones hunt him down and kill him," Beckett snapped. "Now, Captain, if you are finished with this display of impertinence, please escort Misters Sparrow and Turner and Miss Swann back to their vessel. We shall see them in three days time."

"What were you thinking?" Elizabeth screamed from her seat in the second longboat. Gibbs and Will sat in the middle, rowing solemnly, and Jack was reclining languidly across stern. Barbossa, Cotton, Marty, Ragetti, and Pintel were several wave lengths ahead of them, leading their party back to the Bonny Lass. "You could have died! You could have got Will killed! You-"

"Everything worked out, now didn't it, love?" Jack muttered, pulling his hat over his eyes.

"Turn this boat around, I want to go to shore!" Elizabeth ordered.

"Elizabeth-" Will said weakly, glancing over his shoulder at her.

"No, I don't want to hear anything from you right now," spat Elizabeth, choking back the inevitable sorrow of when he fell back under Tia Dalma's control. That faint glimmer of sympathy in his eyes now would turn flat and dull, and she would have been wasting her time on him.

"If we let you stay in Port Royal, Miss Swann," Jack sighed, "you would be locked in a prison cell. Or worse, Beckett would realize wot wonderful leverage you are and use you against us when we are bargaining."

"And as for this 'bargaining', you'll be throwing your life away! Becoming a privateer, Jack? Have you no pride?" Elizabeth demanded.

"My offer to Beckett is nothing more than a way to get my bonny Pearl back, love," Jack said, pushing the brim of his hat up more so that he could shoot her a look. "Truly, poppet, haven't you learned yet that a dishonest man you can always trust to be dishonest? We'll get the Pearl back, a battle shall ensue, and the end result will be me with Jones-y's heart. Savvy?"

"You are a fool, Mister Sparrow," Elizabeth muttered darkly.

"So it would seem," responded the pirate, tugging his hat back down with more vehemence than necessary.

"S'about time ye be gettin' back! Dalma be worried t' deat' 'bout ye!" the voodoo woman howled as the rowboats were pulled onto the deck. "Miz 'Lizabet' was taken, an' now me plans be a'ruined!"

"Miss Elizabeth is in our care, Dalma my dear," Barbossa said, jerking his head in the girl's direction. "Ne'er worry yer pretty head."

"Miz 'Lizabet'!" Dalma cried, hurrying across the deck to intercept her. Elizabeth watched as Will's eyes glazed over in the voodoo woman's presence, and Elizabeth's hatred began to boil again.

"Wot can we attribute to this sudden amount of camaraderie to, Dalma?" Jack asked, standing at Elizabeth's side with a protective arm around her hips. Elizabeth considered shoving him away, but the manic joy in Tia Dalma's eyes was disconcerting.

"Tia sent fo' a gift, down in da town dere," Dalma spat, glaring at the pirate, her hands akimbo. "Dat was b'fore da man No-ring-ton took 'er away, but all da same..."

Dalma snapped at one of her Caribbean crewmen, who hurried forward with a brown paper wrapped parcel. With a vicious glare at Jack, she ripped the paper back and pulled out a long sheath of cream cloth. Elizabeth felt her stomach plunge as the wicked woman shook out the folds, holding the gown out before her.

"Oh," was all Jack said, the word strangled in his throat as Elizabeth stared.

"Hope it be yer size, Miz 'Lizabet'," Dalma grinned, exposing purpled teeth delightedly. "Ye best be lookin' fine fer yer weddin'."


	15. Chapter 15

**Firstly, thanks to all of my loyal readers who responded to the latest installments of this story. You make it a joy to write. However, I'm sorry to say this tale of piracy will be taking a brief break, as schooling does come first at any age. So, I am sorry to leave you with this cliffhanger, but I shall return to writing as soon as I get a chance! Please send more lovely reviews, and enjoy!**

"My wedding..."

"Rum, love?" Jack offered, tipping his bottle in her direction. Elizabeth took the heavy container and sipped, scowling at the taste.

She and Jack were sitting out on the deck, watching as the stars rolled by above them. Tia Dalma hadn't wasted a moment when everyone was safely back aboard the ship; they had been sailing for half a day and had finally anchored for the night.

"Are you sure you don't know who I am supposed to marry?" Elizabeth asked for the third time, casting a desperate glance at the pirate. "Not even the faintest idea?"

"If I said 'yes' this time, will there a reward for me?" Jack inquired, smirking in the half-gloom.

"No, don't you dare start! I am still not happy with you," Elizabeth snapped, shoving the bottle back at the pirate.

"I did apologize, love," Jack pointed out.

"Doesn't matter. If I had stayed in Port Royal, I wouldn't be marrying anyone."

"If you had stayed in Port Royal, you would have cast our chances of vict'ry and splendor t' th' wind," Jack mumbled, waving a hand about with a limp wrist.

"Pirate," Elizabeth spat.

"I know you are, but wot am I?" Jack countered with a pout to his lips.

"Sparrow, Dalma is requestin' th' use o' that bloody compass o' yours. Devil take ye, swab, put th' blasted rum down!"

Elizabeth and Jack glanced up at Barbossa, the lantern light flickering about his pockmarked features demonically.

"And why can't Miss Dalma fetch my compass herself, eh?" Jack frowned.

"She's a bit... occupied at the moment, so if ye would be e'er so kind-"

"Occupied with what, pray tell?" Jack asked, ignoring the blatant hints Barbossa was throwing him. Elizabeth, however, caught the other pirate's glare and felt her stomach clench. With a sigh, she pulled the compass from her belt and gave it to Barbossa.

"What do you think she is doing, Jack? Honestly," she said, bitterness seeping into her words.

"Ye didn't jump ship, eh, pretty?" inquired Barbossa, though his words lacked any biting mockery she had expected.

"Things became... complicated," explained Elizabeth.

"Ah. An' now ye face another complication. M' advice is this: take a knife t' yer marriage bed," Barbossa said, the corner of his mouth lifting at Elizabeth's outraged expression.

"You know who th' lucky blighter is, Barbossa," said Jack, taking a long pull of his rum. "Care t' drop a hint? A clue? A subtly obvious suggestion as to who this cad is and how I can take his place on th' weddin' night?"

"Ye'll find out soon enough, Jack," Barbossa muttered grimly, looking over to Elizabeth. "And ye, pretty, I advice ye t' swim t' shore moment land is in sight. I truly don't want t' see wot'll happen if Dalma gets 'er way."

"Thank you, Barbossa, but I don't think I have many more options," said Elizabeth, giving him a weak smile. Barbossa nodded, touching the brim of his hat in respect to her, and strolled across the deck to deliver Jack's compass to Dalma.

"You know, Elizabeth," Jack murmured, sliding over to the woman's side to place an arm around her shoulders, "you do have another option. A far more agreeable and incredibly attractive option..."

"Jack..." Elizabeth sighed, rolling he eyes up at the starry heavens.

"Just th' two of us, sailing the Caribbean. I'll have th' Pearl back, and we can sing that wonderful song you taught me. Wot was it? We're devils and... de ne ne ne na... really bad eggs! That's th' one! And we'll sing it all th' time!" Jack said cheerfully.

"Jack-"

"Think of it, love! You will be putting a stop t' Tia Dalma's wicked plot and be savin' yourself from marrying some bloke who is probably abominable and doesn't know any good drinking songs..." Jack's exalted demeanor began to melt away, replaced by a look of sincerity.

"And," he said, turning Elizabeth's face to meet his eyes, "you could marry a man who truly admires your ability t' hold your liquor, enjoys seducing you on a daily basis, and would never leave you for some sodding ol' voodoo mistress. Wot say you t' that?"

"I would say you had too much to drink tonight, Mister Sparrow," Elizabeth sighed, pulling the bottle of rum out of his other hand and pushing herself to her feet. "Now, get below and off to bed with you."

"I'm offerin' you an out, Miss Swann," Jack said levelly. "How can you pass that up?"

"By knowing that this," she sloshed the bottle of rum about, "is your third bottle since we got back on board."

"Elizabeth..." Jack groaned.

"Off with you! Now!" Elizabeth snapped.

Jack cast her one final, beseeching look, but pulled himself to his feet, staggering slightly. He straightened his hat, pried her fingers from the bottle, and squared himself before her.

"I will not make this offer again," he warned.

"Is that a promise?" Elizabeth smirked.

"'S a bloody guarantee!" Jack cried. He spun about on his boot heels, swaggering across the deck and down to his hammock.

Elizabeth shook her head, smiling despite herself, and looked over to the stern of the ship. Standing in the golden lantern light on the aft deck was Tia Dalma, her arms crossed in a no-nonsense fashion. Elizabeth felt a shudder come over her and hurriedly followed Jack below deck, trying to forget the demonic smile that had played across Dalma's face.

"Miss Elizabeth?"

"Yes, Mister Gibbs?" Elizabeth called from the wash barrel below deck. Her conversation with Jack the night before had barely been noted all day; the pirate had flirted with her a slight amount, but was then called into Tia Dalma's cabins and hadn't been seen from since. With no one to distract her, Elizabeth had offered to wash the supper bowls for the ship's cook.

"Miss Elizabeth, I believe Miss Dalma be looking for ye," Gibbs said quietly, coming up beside her. "There's something afoot, mark my words. She has Barbossa, Master Turner, and the Cap'n all in her quarters."

"Oh, I'm sure it's nothi-" Elizabeth began.

"ELIZABETH!"

"Jack?" Elizabeth called, turning away from her work to see the pirate come flailing down the steps, arms waving about at their own accord. Jack spotted her and Gibbs and bolted for them. Grabbing the pair, Jack pulled them across the cabin to the larder. With a single motion, he pulled the larder open and flung the two inside. He followed suit, barring the door shut and casting them into darkness.

"Jack, what's the matt-"

Elizabeth's words were muffled by Jack's lips catching hers, kissing her fiercely. She struggled slightly in his grasp, but the pirate refused to let go, holding her in a vice-like grip. The fervor of his kiss was infectious, and Elizabeth relaxed, resting her hands on his shoulder's as she returned the action.

"Jack, it's bloody dark in here! What the Devil- here's a lamp! Now just a little- oh..."

Gibbs lit the lamp, and Elizabeth jerked away from the pirate, shamefully voiding Gibbs' stunned stare. Jack refused to let her go, though, grabbing her chin and directing her attention to his warm eyes.

"Marry me," he breathed, chest heaving from his run and recent activities.

"Jack, stop it! It's not humorous in the least!" Elizabeth chided, praying that the flush on her cheeks would subside soon.

"Do I look amused t' you? Marry me," Jack said again.

"Perhaps I should leave you lot alone," Gibbs suggested, edging toward the door.

"Stay where you are, Mister Gibbs! A marriage requires a witness!" Jack snapped.

"Jack, you've gone mad," Elizabeth gaped.

"You can't marry him," Jack muttered. "You'll die. Anyone but him. Don't make me marry you t' him. Please, Lizzy love, just marry me!"

"Jack, what is going on?" asked Elizabeth, beginning to feel the anxiety that had such a hold over the captain.

"Tia Dalma told me who th' bloody bloke is that's t' marry you," Jack whispered, cupping Elizabeth's face in his hands. "She sent me down here t' bring you t' her. Once I do, there's no escape. She's got a hold on me now, love. I have t' take you t' her."

"Who is it? Who am I supposed to marry?" Elizabeth begged, putting her hands around the nape of Jack's neck to pull him closer.

"I can save you. Just- marry me. Here. Now," said Jack. "If you do, you won't have to die. Dalma's plans will be ruined. Everything will turn out jolly good and bonny, eh?"

"Jack-"

"I love you!" he whispered fiercely, leaning even closer, brushing her nose with his own. "I'm a bloody, rum soaked pirate who lacks a moral center and, I suppose, personal hygiene, but I love you. Don't make me marry you t' your death. I would never forgive myself. Will would never forgive me. I- I just- marry me, Elizabeth."

Blood was pounding in Elizabeth's ears, and her heart seemed about to burst from her chest. Jack Sparrow was in love with her, and wanted to marry her. She could thwart Dalma's plan, and escape all of these horrors, and- Elizabeth's eyes began to well with tears, which she blinked back as much as she could.

"What about Will?" she asked hoarsely.

"No. Elizabeth, please," Jack hissed.

"I can't betray Will!" she cried, her vision blurring from the tears. "Not again!"

"Will is a lost cause! You can't save him!"

"I love him, Jack! I can't do this to him!"

"He's gone! Dalma has him wrapped about her finger. You can't save him. He would have wanted you t' be safe, Elizabeth. For god's sake, marry me!" Jack snapped.

"Jack," Elizabeth choked, the tears running freely down her cheeks now, "I saw Will's eyes yesterday, in Beckett's study. He still cares for me. Underneath Dalma's spell, he loves me still! I can't betray him again!"

"Elizabeth, please," Jack said, his breath ragged. "Don't make me do this. I know you love Will, and Will bloody loves you. But- not this."

"Jack," Gibbs called as a pounding began on the door.

"Marry me," Jack pleaded, desperation in his eyes.

"Jack-" Elizabeth sobbed.

"Marry me!" Jack begged.

"NO!" Elizabeth cried, shoulders shaking from her sobs. "I can't! I can't do it! I'm sorry! I am ever so sorry, Jack! I simply can't! I-"

Jack pulled her lips against his, clutching her to him like she was his salvation. Elizabeth kissed him, cheeks wet with tears, and dug her fingers into his hair. If only she could stay right here and be safe. She could stand in Jack's arms forever; Will and Dalma would never find them, never feel betrayed or outraged. If only-

"Elizabeth," Jack murmured, pulling away as the door swung open. "I'm so sorry, love."


	16. Chapter 16

**Here it is! The latest installment! I'm very very sorry, loves, for not updating, but schooling does come first. Lucky for you, though, my year is almost up, so I can almost guarentee more speedy updates in the coming weeks. Enjoy!**

Tia Dalma's cabin was filled with light; every ledge, every shelf was covered in lanterns and oil lamps, warm light swaying back and forth like the ship itself. Barbossa was seated at the table, staring into a tankard of rum. Will sat near him, his hands folded in his lap and his eyes staring dully at some point on the table. As Jack closed the door behind them, Elizabeth shuddered Tia Dalma's pleased expression.

"Take a seat, da bot' o' ye," Dalma purred, setting two more tankards on the table. Elizabeth went mechanically to her seat, but Jack refused to move.

"We still on da course?" Dalma asked Barbossa.

"Aye," the pirate grumbled, refusing to meet anyone's gaze.

"Good, good. Now, den, Miz 'Lizabet', I got da news fo' ye," Dalma smiled. "Ye're gettin' married!"

"I would really prefer not to, thank you," Elizabeth said quietly, her cheeks still damp from crying.

"Ah, but da man been waitin' fo' so long," the voodoo woman cackled. Her blackened grin grew at Elizabeth's perplexed look, and she said to Jack, "Ye couldn't tell 'er, could ye, Jack? Ye try, Dalma sure, ye try t' make 'er marry ye instead. Oh, poor Jack Spar-row!"

Jack didn't respond; he crossed his arms, leaning against one of the main braces in the cabin, sullenly studying the floorboards. Dalma laughed again, and Elizabeth's loathing for the woman turned white hot.

"Who exactly do you want me to marry?" she spat, enraged at Dalma's treatment toward the pirate.

"Ye don' know? Not a bit? Oh ho! 'Dis is good!" howled Tia Dalma. "She don' know after she wear da locket, after she see 'er lover in love wid me, after Spar-row so upset! She don' know!"

"Well, why don't you tell me," Elizabeth snapped, "or perhaps someone else could. You do have some idea of how to speak English, don't you?"

"Miz 'Lizabet'," Dalma smirked, some of her glory stolen by the retort, "ye be marryin' a man dat been waitin' fo' his bride fo' years! Him be so sad, he do anyt'ing t' keep da 'urt away. Even... lock it up."

"What?" Elizabeth gasped, blood running from her face. "You can't mean-"

"Davy Jones been waitin' fo' 'is bride," Tia Dalma smiled, her bangles clinking maliciously as she raised her hands. "On'y he not gettin' me... he gettin' ye."

"But... but he's-" Elizabeth gaped.

"A monster," Barbossa growled beneath his breath. "A vicious, cruel beast that sooner slay th' girl than marry 'er. Dalma, give th' plan up!"

"No!" Dalma spat, rounding on the pirate. "Ye know 'ow long I been livin' in dat bayou? Too long! I be wantin' me freedom!"

"Let Sparrow get Jones' heart back, an' we'll stab it clear through," Barbossa snapped. "Don't send Miss Swann t' 'er death."

"I cannae be free 'til dat man let go o' da past!" Dalma hissed, leaning over the table at Barbossa. "He marry da girl, an' I free t' go. He t'ink he marryin' me, but no, Dalma too tricky fo' dat! We put da locket round 'er neck, an' he t'ink it me!"

"Wot about when th' Flying Dutchman sinks?" Everyone turned to look at Jack, who finally wrenched his gaze away from some distant spot. "She'll drown. Or wot if Jones doesn't love you like you think he does? Wot then? You'll have wasted a perfectly good soul on a mad whim."

"He still love Tia Dalma," the voodoo woman protested. "I feel 'is love ev'ry day, like da sickness. It be wretched."

"Well, I imagine he'd have t' be somewhat sick t' love you," Jack muttered.

"Hush, Jack! It be workin' fo' ye, too," Dalma chided. "Ye marry Miz 'Lizabet' t' Jones in exchange fo' yer ship. An' after dat, ye free o' me will."

"It's only a ship..." Jack said beneath his breath, staring wretchedly at the floorboards.

"I'll jump ship," Elizabeth exclaimed, getting to her feet. The heat of panic began to seize her, and her voice hitched. "I-I'll kill myself! I'll-"

"Ye do not'ing," Dalma spat, pushing her face mere inches from the distraught Elizabeth. "Wot can ye do? Barbossa an' Spar-row obey me! Dey drag ye back aboard an' shove ye off t' Jones. Tia Dalma be da one wit' power here, Miz 'Lizabet'. Ye do as I say."

"You filthy trollop!" Elizabeth screamed, fists clenched at her sides. "You have no right-"

"I 'ave ev'ry right! I own ye! I own ye all!" snarled Dalma.

Elizabeth glared into Dalma's murky eyes, baring her teeth in a feral expression. She raised her right hand slightly, her knuckles brushing the knife hilt at her belt. Dalma squared her shoulders, head and bosom lifting slightly as she stared Elizabeth down.

"Draw da' blade an' Dalma ne'er release Jack," she hissed softly, her voice pricking Elizabeth's spine like one thousand needles. "Ye go quiet, an' I release Jack once 'e return from marryin' ye t' Jones. Ot'erwise, 'e be me slave... fo' eternity."

Elizabeth's breath hitched; she glanced over her shoulder at Jack. The pirate had gone back to melancholy, glumly staring at the floor. Something in Elizabeth tore; she should have married him when she had the chance. She could have saved herself and him. She would have broken Will's heart, but at least...

"Will," she gasped, turning to her fiance. She ran over to Will, who was still slumped in a chair, eyes vacant. She threw her arms about his knees, her own trembling limbs giving out on the floor, to stare pleadingly into his waxen expression. "Will! Please come back to me! Please! Say you love me. Say you'll save me! William Turner, please!"

Something, a spark, rippled through the brown depths of Will's eyes. His head jerked slightly, and he momentarily focused on her. Elizabeth held her breath, wishing, hoping that that was recognition in his gaze, but she went cold as Dalma's voice washed over the pair of them like a morning tide.

"William," the voodoo woman murmured, making Elizabeth cling tighter to the man, "who be da one ye love?"

"Will, no-" Elizabeth choked, but she couldn't drown out his haunting reply.

"I love Dalma," Will said, his voice empty. His eyes became glassy once more, lost.

"NO!" Elizabeth wailed, burying her face in the salty cloth around his knees. Her vision blurred from tears, body shaking. "No no no!"

The cabin was quiet except for Elizabeth's broken sobs. She clung to her lost love for some time, letting very emotion she had kept locked away spill forth. She had no more hope. Will would never be her own again, and she had turned down the one other man who might have rescued her from death.

Slowly, the tears subsided. Her heaving body calmed to a tremor, her eyes going dry from no more tears. Elizabeth felt something thick drape across her lap; she looked up with bloodshot eyes at Tia Dalma.

"Put on yer dress," Dalma ordered, nodding at the creamy cloth that lay across Elizabeth's legs. "Yer bride-groom awaits ye."


End file.
